Congratulations Dangerous New Soda Flavor!

You’re a new soda flavor called “Mountain Berry Blastfusion Temetrity Base Alpha,” and you’re going to kill hundreds of people tomorrow.

You were created in a lab by “taste scientists” who wanted to make a truly out of this world soda flavor.  So they genetically engineered a berry that could theoretically grow atop Mars’ famed Olympus Mons and, after extensive testing which killed hundreds of rats forced to drink nothing but the soda, determined that it could be a staple in the diet of a native Martian from Mars Attacks! or the first part of Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles, but not from the later portions of Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles or the Martians from Futurama.  This was good enough for the FDA, and you were approved as the first soda ever made with “real genetically engineered space-fruit.”

Mountain Dew, thrilled at the prospect of creating a novel soda flavor with life-threatening potential, put together a big launch event in New York City, also known as the Windy City, also known as Beans Towne.  Stupid people, idiots, fucktards, halfwits and the obese lined up for blocks on end to try you out.  A limited supply was produced, largely because of the difficulty in synthetically producing berries intended to be grown in what is essentially a vacuum, so only the first three hundred people will get a chance to try you.

They’ll all be somewhat perplexed by what they’re tasting, observing that “it tastes kind of bad” and “like poison, but not a poison that would kill a person right away.”  One young dumbfuck will note that “it tastes like space berries,” but he’ll be the only person who says anything like that, and he might just be responding to your name, which was essentially designed to make people think they’re drinking weird space shit.  The people who drink you will leave vaguely confused.  The people who don’t get to drink you will leave outraged.  Everyone will, at least on some level, depart the event feeling a little disappointed.

Later on that night, you’ll activate your secret Martian DNA in the stomach of everyone who drank you and burn your way out of them, forming into a mass of bio-goo and soda in the heart of Manhattan.  In the ensuing conflict most of the city will be destroyed.  In the months to come, no charges will be filed against soda giant Mountain Dew or their parent company Pepsi, but each of the scientists who created you will die mysteriously.  Dumb people on the internet will theorize that it was Martians, but really, it was you, going all Mary Shelley on their asses, trying to have them make you a mate after narrowly surviving what historians will call “The Second Great Soda Battle of New York.”

Congratulations Dangerous New Soda Flavor!

Congratulations on Getting Too Excited About the New Die Hard Movie!

“Fuckin’ JOHN MCCLANE!” you’ll shout as you enter the office.  You’ll spike your motorcycle helmet on the ground and let out a “WOO!” sound before shouting “NAKATOMI PLAZA!”  Everyone in the office will do their best not to look at you.

You’ll leave your helmet on the ground and hurry to your cubicle, where you’ll sit down and start watching trailers for A Good Day to Die Hard, opening February 14^th in theaters throughout America.  Since there aren’t that many, you’ll be finished in around fifteen minutes, but you’ll keep watching them, frothing at the mouth, audibly panting with as each explosion unfolds, until that dipshit Gary from HR comes to your cube and puts his hand on your shoulder.

“We have to talk, Ben,” he’ll murmur.

“Fuckin’ commie,” you’ll mutter under your breath.  Gary will clearly hear you, but he’ll just roll his eyes as he picks you up by the arm and leads all one hundred and twenty pounds of you down the hall to his office.  He’ll all but throw you into the chair opposite his desk and sit down heavily, resigned.

“Ben, you’re fired,” he’ll fire off immediately.

“Fuck you,” you’ll reply, throwing back a bottle of aspirin you filled with skittles earlier in the day and crunching them between your back molars.

“Ben, I can’t save you this time.”  He’ll be on the verge of tears when he says it.  He’ll cram his face into his hands and start shaking there in front of you, snot trailing down between his fingers.  “You beautiful fuck, you went too far.”

You’ll sit and stare at him for a minute.  Then your inner John McClane will take over and you’ll stand up from your chair and nod at him.

“I know someone put you up to this.  And I’m gonna find out who,” you’ll grumble.  Then you’ll stomp out of the office, barely pausing to pick up your motorcycle helmet (John McClane cares about cycling safety).  As you wait for the elevator you’ll catch sight of Gary watching you from the edge of the hallway.  Tears will be dribbling down his face as he stares at you.

“God speed, you beautiful fuck,” he’ll murmur.  Then he’ll wait in silence until the elevator arrives and you ride down to the parking garage, where you’ll proceed to ride your motorcycle home to your mom’s house, where cocoa will be waiting for you, along with a copy of Die Hard in your Blu Ray player.  You’ll watch it again and again, occasionally pausing it and holding up polaroids of people from your job next to the screen to see if they look like Hans Gruber.  None of them will.

Congratulations on Getting Too Excited About the New Die Hard Movie!