Apropos of Nothing

Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species.  To this end, I hold M&M duels.

Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters.  That is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately.  The winner gets to go another round.

I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior.  I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world.

Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest.  Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength.  In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment.

When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd.  Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."

This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms.  I consider this "grant money."  I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament.  From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.

There can be only one.