Consider the jellybean: tiny, sweet, ostensibly harmless; eat it with half a pound of its brethren, though, and you will see it for the ruthless enemy it is.
Funny, I was going to write exactly the same sentence but substitute “cashew cookies” for “jellybeans.”
I love jelly beans...except those tricky ones that taste like dirt or vomit.
‘mouse: I was all set to cry “cashew cookies? ruthless enemy? surely not!,” but then I remembered the day I missed lunch and ended up eating half a dozen of them, and I thought ah, yeah, that’s right.
Br. Ezra: Oh, I hold no truck with those Bertie Bott bean things. Those are just wrong. As it is, I got a little reckless with the gourmet jellybean u-pick-mix at Dylan’s Candy Bar and ended up with a mix of buttered popcorn, French vanilla, peanut butter, peach, chocolate pudding, cafelatte, strawberry daiquiri and Dr. Pepper. On paper it sounds so vile, but I’ll be damned if they don’t taste nifty together.
dirt or vomit? Where the hell are you buying your jellybeans?
You can’t be telling me there are such things. No! I refute the existence of dirt-flavoured jelly beans!
Oh, boot, honey, I’m sorry, but Br. Ezra was not engaging in hyperbole. They exist.
Edit: Not only do they exist, I’ve actually seen them in candy shops, most notably at Dylan’s Candy Bar on 3rd Avenue and East 60th Street. I don’t know if every assortment has every flavor, but I’ve seen some pretty vile flavors listed on the packet.
No, no, no.
[boot puts her hands over her ears]
“La la la la la la la refuterefuterefute la la la la.”