Just when I think there aint no hope of figerin out a issue what has me baffled, along comes a indicator that I been lookin' in the wrong gaddamn direction in applyin' my formidable intellekt to the issue. It's happened both times I ever been baffled by anything.
The first was tryin' to figer out why Mom always had lots of money when she came out from behind the VFW buildin' on bingo night - but I was just a little tyke then - an the second was why my Rice Krispies always went 'Snap, Krackle, Hisss" instead of "Snap, Krackle, Pop."
Ever since I was a little bitty baby my Rice Krispies went "hissss" instead of "pop." Right at first I didn't notice it none, but then one day Mom comes home with a brand new color television, damn near ran into the Repo Man takin' the couch, hooks it up, an the first thang I ever seed on television was a Rice Krispy ' commercial talkin' about 'Snap, Krackle, Pop."
Well gaddamn, Hezekiah Tee Smith-Jones III, I says to my inquisitive little self that day long ago, they's sumthin wrong here. Rice Krispies "hissss" instead of "pop" an I reckon that commercial maker don't know shit from my sister's dead cat in the freezer what she aint discovered yet. Seemed to me then that if Marcia Clark would git her ass off T.V. long enough to learn law then she could sue the station for big bucks.
But then the moment of truth came. I was traumaticized. On my very first day at Skeeter E. Lee Elementary School I'm sittin at the lunch table scopin' out the teecher's garter belts when of a sudden I notice every gaddamn bowl of Rice Krispies at the table was goin "Snap, Krackle, Pop" b'cept for mine! It's the damnedest thang I ever heard tell of. There I was at the table hearin' "pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, hisss!" All the boys started laughin at me. I had to kick a few asses that day.
If it woulda happened today to some young boy why I don't doubt he'd would have showed back up to school totin' a Uzi an 5 extrie clips.
So the years pass an' I live life an Tammie Faye Bakker gets loonier an Dan Rather gets fuller of shit an Princess Di goes from a fine lookin' teenager to a Princess what wishes Arabs woulda stuck to ridin' camels, an all in between my Krispies is "hisss'ing."
An then comes my Orikal at Philidelphi.
I was spendin' quality time with porno sites on the puter when I hit the wrong button and happened across Demonbusters.com, and like scales fallin' off scaly eyes, my ignurnance melted away, cause it said there that the Devil could possess anything they is, and I no'd right then and there without a minutes hesitation that my Rice Krispies was Demon Possessed!!
Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!
The Devil's in my gaddamn cereal!
What kind of low life mo fo does that sumbitch have to be to possess breakfast food! "Hezekiah Tee Smith-Jones, III," I says to my wize self, "it's bad enough that Dev is shrinkin' Big Macs by the week, but we drawin' the line right here right now at Rice Krispies. Yep, we goin' have ourselves a exorcism!"
So I took my intent 'n resolved self to Blockbuster, rented The Exorcist, watched it twice, declared myself a expert exorcist, and headed down to Dead Yank Crick to fill a medicine bottle full of water. On the way home I stopped by Pastor Zeek's house and sobered him up long enough to get him to bless the water.
And by nightfall I, Hezekiah Tee Smith-Jones, III, was ready to bring Deliverance to my Cereal.
