Penmanship really is your first line of defense.

Sucking my can of soda greedily dry, no use of straw only wrapping my oversized lips over the opening, the can crumpled by the massive strength of my lungs, I look around for my next victim. It’s been a war that has been wage for eons. I have battled sugary substance of every kind for millennia; be them the crystal rock candy slugs of Abercrombie Five or the Giant one Armed Lollipops of Zethran Four, I have consumed them all. I am the antithesis of the Crystalline Entity from Star Trek, instead of candy eating people (sci-fi), I eat candy people! You watch as the ginger bread man quakes in his boots or the gum drop princess poops a string of Jujubes in my presence! I have decimated the entire campaign of M&M’s and Hershey Kisses, not to mention the great Easter Candy Holocaust of 2010. Every holiday has the spoils of war, I like to pepper mint cane an advent calendar into forking over its chocolate gifts…like anyone could really wait all 25 days. I crawl across the dining room floor and scale the fridge to claw at all the Peeps; I see them shiver in their pink confectionary fear. Halloween is just one big glycemic blur; it’s the acid trip of the sweet tooth. Every year I start the evening off trick-o-treating and drinking whiskey, I move to beer and Baby Ruth’s, and then it’s on to sweet vermouth and Malo cups. I black out around nine o’clock and wake up naked in my basement. I have strange nightmares of puking in my neighbor’s Escalade, chasing people around with licorice ropes and sticking used candy wrappers to me and yelling out that I am the Candy Man.

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY