Blueberry MuffinTops (Mike was right all along)
It's no secret that Mike Giambra loves cereal. His blog, Michael Matters, is pretty much devoted entirely to the discussion, controversy surrounding, and consumption of various cereals. But one cereal in particular has recieved rave reviews from Mr. Giambra -- Blueberry MuffinTops. So today, after a group of us went for a swim, I asked Mike about this cereal. After talking highly of it for a bit, he offered me one (1) bowl of the MuffinTops.
When he went off to the tech center I found myself particularly parched for some good cereal. I grabbed the azure box, hiding in the darkest, leftest part of the closet. I flipped the cardboard panels upward and stared inside. Half a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch-esque squares of grain. I sat down with my reading assignment from film class in front of me. The shingles of biscuit fell into the cerulean bowl, clinking like chirping birds. Layered perfectly, they glistened, reflecting the luster from the humming fluorescent lights above. No one was near; it was me and the MuffinTops. I let a bit of a smile.
I poured the milk.
The frosted white liquid dove through the center of the pile. A few droplets splashed out towards me. I giggled. I had poured too much milk, so I took a little sip from the corner of the bowl to even the distribution. As I did this, a few of the bits touched my upper lip. "Let us in," they whispered. The muted tinge of blueberry milk fell past my palate and into my belly. I paused, reflecting on the sensation. I blinked at the calm bowl -- it gazing back at me. With a slight, unintentional tremble in my fingertips, I placed the spoon into the bowl. As a few droplets fell to my chin and lower lip, the cereal was in my mouth.
The blueberry explosion was instantaneous. The tiny pieces of flavor blitzed my gumline, surging into the roots of my teeth where they connect to my jaw. I contracted, overwhelmed by the aura of all that is blueberry. I could feel the pieces of cereal relax themselves, dissolving inside me. The Blueberry MuffinTops became part of me. They coursed through my veins, infiltrating the core of my essence.
I continued to eat, experiencing the most incredible lust I've ever felt. I was mad, constantly swiping my hair back, diving deeper into the MuffinTops. The pleasure was too intense; I swiped the bowl off the table -- shattering it to bits as it hit the wall to my left. I thrust my palms into the broken shards of porcelain on the floor, allowing the blueberry flavored milk to enter me. I was a sinner. I smeared the blood and milk from my palms across my face as pink warpaint. Grabbing the collar of my shirt, I tore it from my body. Quickly slipping from my pants I turned to the balcony, rivers of white and red cascading from my chin to my bare chest. Sliding open the cool glass door, I pressed myself far out over the railing. Dripping wet with sweat and milk, I stretched my arms up to the clear, blank night sky. I'm ready to come home, Jesus.