Sticky Situations

Papa always told me it was a terrible lifestyle, but there's nothing to be done about it; were just born this way.

I was born on the moving road with hundreds of others just like me. Fresh out of the oven, composed of glucose, sucrose and a million other substances I can't even pronounce. That moving road took me and my many companions through endless tunnels and shoots. We were coated with powders and liquids repetitively. It was such a hectic scene; being just a new born and not having a clue what is going on.

Near the end of the moving road, robotic hands reached down and picked us up, dressing us in the finest paper attire. After that I was placed in a tiny cardboard box with eleven other companions. This is the place I would call home for the rest of my life.

It was pitch black in there; no light whatsoever. I don't know what happened while we were in there. There was a lot of moving and shaking that carried on for a few weeks and then another week of complete stillness. It was insanely boring, but what could we possibly do?

Then one day, after some slight movement, the box opened. A huge monstrous looking creature peered in and snatched Alfred, my dear friend. The creature proceeded to devour him before closing the box.

This ritual proceeded at least once a day until everyone was dead. After Alfred it was Emily, then John, than George, then Percy, then Mel, then Darcy, then Wilma, then Amy, then Marge, then Ronald and then all were gone but me.

The morning after the horrific death of Ronald, and the lonely night that followed, was my end. The creature opened the box and snatched me from my place, at least the fresh air was nice. He proceeded to remove my paper suit and throw me in his mouth. I thought it might be quick and painless, but no. It was brutal torture. He didn't chew me once, or twice but rather about 1500 times. He would not stop chewing. He just kept chomping and munching and biting forever. I thought it would never end. Until finally he swallowed me and I felt the sweet relief of acid burning me to death.

This is the miserable life of a stick of chewing gum.