19 Days: Monster cereal Part I, Chocula
I love zombies, as you can plainly tell from my posts here. I think they are the best monster imaginable: unthinking, unfeeling, nigh-unstoppable, and uncouth eating habits. Zombies eat your flesh or your brains, depending which movie/book/game you are enjoying, but what of the monsters that, not your brains, but your stomach lining? I am, of course, talking about the Monster Cereals.
Ah, Count Chocula, Boo Berry, and Frankenberry… Where would my childhood be without your seductive call? While searching in vain for new outdoor Halloween lights yesterday, we came upon these in a special display at Target on Naaman’s Road. Being completely retarded for monsters, I had to have them. Also, I wanted to relive the sugar-highs and crashes of my youth, and then bore you all with the results.
First is the Count. His eyes heavy lidded and fangs replaced by bunny teeth, the Count taunts you with haunting visions of chocolate grain ghosts and tiny marshmallow… things. I think they’re supposed to be bats and more ghosts, but it was hard to tell as I dove into the bowl with the gusto of a 10-year-old boy driven mad with sugar withdrawal.
As the first spoonful nears my lips, there is a moment of trepidation as my mind recalls that I don’t eat much sweets, rarely even a glass of soda. Throwing caution to the wind, my mouth fills with chocolate and marshmallow goodness. My heart started racing, my eyes rolled back into my head, and my ears rang with the sound that chocolate makes when it beats you about the head with a shovel. It was sweet.
I minor difference that I noticed, once the sugary tears dried, was that with the marshmallows themselves. Years ago, they would remain fairly crunchy no matter how long they sat in the milk, and biting into them was much like chewing on a piece of horribly sweet chalk. This is a more painful visual when you remember that chalk is made from the carapaces of dead ocean bugs, and yes, I have eaten it. Moving on.
The taste has not changed sonce my childhood, though the sweetness is more of a shock then it used to be. I fully expect that, during tomorrow’s morning constitutional, I will find a stalk of sugar cane growing out of my ass, and if that causes bleeding, it will be thick Hersheys syrup oozing from my veins. One small bowl of it had me wired for hours when added to my normal morning cups of coffee.
In summary, this was a nice stroll down memory lane, but it is not something that I would buy again. I look forward to trying out the Franken-and-Boo-Berry cereals, although I’m afraid I may have used up all my sugar-laden cereal jokes. Stay tuned!