Sorry Kids, Trix is for the Fighting Elite

Simple question Pat: in a one-on-one single elimination fight to the death tournament, which breakfast cereal mascot would win?

Pat: Uncle Sam! BOOM! I win! (or are you feeling UNAMERICAN, buddy!?)

Christian: I wasn’t familiar with Uncle Sam cereal so I had to google it. As far as I can tell their mascot is a spoon full of their cereal. That doesn’t seem like something that would hold up well in a fight.

COME AT ME BRO!

(source)

I’m guessing it would easily lose in the first round to Froot Loops’ Toucan Sam or even that sissy Sugar Smacks frog.

Look, he’s about to put the *smack* down on a spoon of

cereal on the box. My point proven. And I think he’s *smack* talking too.

(source)

You really think the Uncle Sam spoon of cereal would fair well in a death match?

Pat: No. Not really. It’s just the first thing I saw after I ran to the cupboard and looked for cereal.  See...I’m not a cereal eater. I tend towards a nice egg-cheese-bread breakfast sandwich. But that box of Uncle Sam was in there and I was feeling lazy so I just went with it.

Know what? That Uncle Sam crap tastes like...crap. It’s like putting a mouthful of hamster cage shavings in your mouth, with milk. Apparently my wife loves the stuff. I was pretty sure about her being the one, but after that experience I’m not so sure.

Nope...Uncle Sam is out.

So who now? Hmm...Captain Crunch was just informed by the US navy that he is not in fact a captain, so he’s out. Do Snap, Crackle and Pop count as one, ‘cause they’d probably be a kick-ass kung-fu action team? Tony the Tiger seems too obvious a choice, and I feel like you might be expecting me to choose him in order to set me up for ultimate disappointment.

Got it! Well, got them, actually, because I can’t really choose. It’s a tie-up between Cliffy the Clown (one helluva terrifying muthafucka!) and Fruit Brute (‘cause who wants to argue with a name like THAT?).

         

You tell me...which is more intimidating?

What say you, compadré?

Christian: Cliffy the Clown is definitely frightening. I wasn’t too familiar with him so I did some research to see how many people he killed during his time. I learned that he was actually around before the cereal. He had a TV show or something and later Kelloggs asked him to be a spokesperson for them. Basically what I’m saying is that he doesn’t qualify.

But as for Fruit Brute, that’s a good choice. He appears to have sharp teeth and claws but I’m assuming he’s a werewolf or something right? Doesn’t that mean he is only ferocious and menacing when there is a full moon? Which only happens once a month. What happens if the death-match tournament doesn’t fall on that one day of the month. I don’t like those odds.

As for my choice, I thought to myself, who has no morals or sympathy for others? Who has unbelievable strength and speed? Who doesn’t feel pain and will stop at nothing to feed their desires? That’s right--a meth addict. And which cereal mascot is clearly a meth addict? The Trix Rabbit.

Just look at his crazed eyes as he lunges for a

piece of Heisenberg’s blue crystal.

He can probably lift a car off of a baby with just his ears.

Unless Fruit Brute lucks out and the match falls on a full moon I think this rabbit will be drinking his blood in no time.

You got anyone you think can beat him?

Pat:  I think if we’re talking potential meth-head mascots, Cliffy spits rotted teeth all over your Trix Rabbit. You think a non-tweaker would come up with a get-up like that?!  

I won’t fight you on Cliffy’s exclusion, though I have to let you know that I don’t enjoy these games where you apparently make up the finer-pointed rules as we go along. Nor do I like the assumption that Fruit Brute is a werewolf. He could very easily be a mangy neighborhood mutt, or a deranged axe-wielding lunatic dressed up in a vaguely-canine outfit. I think they call those people “furries”.  

Yep. Just googled it. They’re “furries”. And I don’t understand them.

I’m sticking with Fruit Brute. Unless you’re going to tell me he already lost. Then I’m going with Crunchasaurus Rex. Looks thuggish enough for a grain-based processed food.

 

Wanna' tussle?

Christian: OK. Maybe a dinosaur could beat a meth-addicted rabbit. Nice pick.

But I think I got one that can take down your silly dinosaur. Now most people probably think the mascot for Cookie Crisp cereal is diabetes but it’s not. It’s a WIZARD!!!

Good luck to your Crunchasaurus Rex while he’s fighting Gandalf.

Pat: Ooh...damn! Wizards are hard to beat! But is what they do really called “fighting”? Isn’t “sorcery” more appropriate? I’m not trying to be a sore loser or anything, but that seems a bit desperate to me.

Christian: Sorcery is a type of fighting. Just like kung-fu and water balloon.

So why don’t you and Crunchasaurus Rex go share some scones while my Cookie Crisp wizard rains terror down upon all these other breakfast cereal mascots and turns them into a pile of sugar and Butylated Hydroxytoluene.

Last Meal

I don’t know about you Pat, but I plan on never getting arrested and then executed on death row. It’s one of the items on my empty bucket list (things I don’t want to ever do before I die). Sure there’s the off chance I’ll get framed for a crime I didn’t commit. But my plan for that is to just execute a harrowing escape from prison. Which is why I schedule weekly escaping practices for myself from my basement. Granted I have never been able to successfully escape from my basement in the allotted time - 3 hours - but that’s most likely because I keep all the beer down there.

Anyways, another area of the being-put-on-death-row-for-a-crime-I-didn’t-commit scenario I have put a lot of thought into is my last meal (assuming my harrowing escape works out the same way as trying to escape from my basement -There’s beer in prison right?).

Pat, have you put any thought into what your last meal would be if for some reason you could only have one more meal before you died?

Pat: Man, buddy, when you nail it you REALLY nail it!* I have thought about this one, a lot!

And it might surprise you, me being the grand gourmand I am. Forget the idea of filet mignon and lobster with beurre blanc, with macerated roots and tubers. If it’s my last meal, I want a gut-stuffing platter of all the shit that experts said would kill me if I didn’t stop eating it.

That’s right...we’re talking gravy--LOTS of it!--on top of fried balls of anything covered in cheese that comes out of a tube. Might as well throw some crispy bacon on top of all that and try to squeeze it all into a giant tortilla in order to make the giantest crap-food chimichanga the world has ever seen. Cover it with some crema and some guaca-sauce, and I might just be swimming in a little pool of heaven.

Yep...kinda' like that.

Christian:  Seems like you should add an item from 7-11 on top of that thing too. Doesn’t matter what the item is as long as it’s from 7-11.

But Pat I think we are on the same page on this one. Yes, the naive and foolish answer would be to select something like lobster or steak. And I’ll be the first to admit that some of my favorite meals of all time were such things. But the kicker here is that lobster and steak aren’t always really good.

Even the top elite chefs from the finest Sizzlers around don’t always get it right. Are you going to want to risk it on your last meal ever? No.

As for me my last meal would be a large sausage pizza from my favorite pizza place, Papa’s Pizza (Sorry non-Oregonians, they’re a Willamette Valley only establishment). I’ve probably had over 1500 of these pizzas in my lifetime and I have never been unhappy with one. Their cheese is thick and melts with flavor while their crust falls perfectly between not too thin and not too thick. Perfection. And what is the only way to improve upon perfection? Put sausage on the perfection.

I think I really hit this one out of the park.

Pat: Something about the image of a sausage pizza always makes me vurp a little. I had a bad experience with an over-sausaged Chicago style pizza (I was in Chicago at the time, so I guess it was just “pizza”), where, in order to be able to eat it I had to pick out a lot of the sausage, which left me with a big ball-like thing of sausage and cheese, flecked with little spots of red.

Somewhere between...

this

and

this.

But that’s cool...if that’s what you want for your last meal, then who the hell am I to argue. (vurp!).

I know that this isn’t the time or place to get a little self-righteous or preachy, but do you want to think about having even a little something green on your last meal Christian?

What if we play the airplane game as I feed it to you?

Christian: Something green? Pat, do you even understand what we are talking about here? This is our last meal. EVER. We’re going to die shortly after eating it (which is why I’m ordering a large pizza. It’s going to take me awhile to finish that baby off).

Why would you want to eat some greens? Are you planning on doing some exercising afterwards too? Don’t forget to floss while you’re at it.

Sheesh Pat, you really know how to take the fun out of being executed on death row.

Pat:  No, you’re probably right. It’s just that I think I might get a tiny bit nostalgic right at the end, and I might feel a twinge of regret about not eating something that connects me with this beautiful green planet that has nurtured me and helped me grow.

You don’t want to throw even a sprig of parsley on there? Just for fun, fresh breath...and a final taste of mother earth?

Christian: Stacey is right. You are a hippy.

*for all of our followers playing the “that’s-what-she-said” game, I just helped you get 100 points!