But there's a box of Munchkins in our lounge, and all the chocolate ones are gone.
MUNCHKIN ORDER FUCKER-UPPER: Hey, I'm going to Dunkin Donuts to get some Munchkins, you guys want anything?
ME: Chocolate or cinnamon.
MUNCHKIN FUCKER-UPPER: That's it?
ME: That's it.
MUNCHIN ORDER FUCKER-UPPER: Not like, glazed or anything?
ME: They're alright, but I know I won't eat them.
MUNCHKIN ORDER FUCKER-UPPER: (like I'm crazy)Okaaaaay. Anyone else?
EVERYONE ELSE: We'll eat anything!
MUNCHKIN ORDER FUCKER-UPPER: Cool.
ME: (secretly, so no one in the office gets offended or believes I am unfolding some sort of scheming Munchkin sting operation.) Get extra chocolate ones.
MUNCHKIN ORDER FUCKER-UPPER: I'm just going to get a variety.
ME: I'm telling you, get extra chocolate ones. They're always gone first.
MUNCHKIN ORDER FUCKER-UPPER: (laughter, because of course I am crazy) I'll be right back.
ME: I smell foreboding.
ME: (upon completion of a nonspecific officey-like task) I think I shall have a Munchkin now.
(walks over to the Munchkins)
Jeepers, what happened to all of the goddamn chocolate and/or cinnamon Munchkins? It appears that only two of them remain in box, only to be escorted by dozens of hardened, untouched, and unsavory-looking jelly and glazed Munchkins, and I have yet to begin my breakfast of goodness which has now distinctly dwindled in mass due to lack of options.
(I turn, and notice people chomping on sweet chocolate Munchkiny excellence.)
I cannot start a fight with them over balls of glazed cake. I cannot start a fight with them over balls of glazed cake. I cannot start a fight with them over balls of glazed cake. I CANNOT START A FIGHT WITH THEM OVER BALLS OF GLAZED CAKE. They didn't know. How could they know? They just go immediately for the good ones, I understand. They're fickle and unwilling to admit their own shortcomings as decision-makers in the donut department. It is not their fault I have limited Munchkins at my digestive disposal. (Blurg.)
Please, if you're ever in charge of ordering Munchkins, don't even bother with the glazed and the jelly. There is currently a box of Munchkins in our lounge containing about sixteen glazed and/or jelly Munchkins, and I guarantee that they will almost all get tossed into the garbage by five o'clock.
Glazed and jelly Munchkins are just gratuitous filler balls, included to make the box look jam-packed with goodies when in reality it's jam-packed with Jam. I am not anti-jam, I'm actually very pro-jam, but not inside my freakin' Munchkins.
Wouldn't it just make more sense to order more chocolate Munchkins than glazed? Spare us the trouble of opening Pandora's Box of glazed disappointment.
I know what you're going to say. In fact, this is the conversation we are about to have:
YOU: But you see, I really do like all kinds of Munchkins.
ME: Yeah fucking right.
YOU: No, seriously, jelly, glazed...those little apple-flavored ones...They're Munchkins. They're all delicious.
ME: If they're so delicious, then why do you fill yourself up on the chocolate ones and leave the apparently delectable jelly and glazed for everyone else to consume? Why not dive into the jelly and glazed Munchkins immediately and spare us honest folk the heartache of missing out on our specified Munchkin order?
YOU: Because...I don't know, the chocolate ones are good.
ME: Of course they're good, dammit, they're fucking chocolate cake.
YOU: But I really do like the other kinds too!
ME: Shut the hell up and next time order chocolate ones. Because they're the best.
YOU: That's not why.
ME: Yes it is. If you like them the best, why didn't you just say so? I like all sorts of kinds of chips, but I'm not going around and buying variety packs willy-nilly, because I know I would just want all the Cool Ranch and the occasional Cheeto, and then people would come over and be all, "Can I have a variety pack?" and I would lie through my teeth and say, "Sure, take what you want." But in my head I'm thinking, "Get your greasy chip grubbing fingers off of my motherfucking Cool Ranch."