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What's going on in the mind of a nut

Updated on April 23, 2010

What's going on in the mind of a nut?

I AM A TOTAL MORON: I DELETED THE FIRST CAPSULE. IF YOU HAVE A COPY IN YOUR CACHE, PLEASE CONTACT ME!

OTHERWISE, READING THIS WILL MAKE EVEN LESS SENSE!

From the basket I was bundled into a canvas bag. The bag opening was stitched up (I heard the unmistakable sound of the stitching machine) and added to what sounded like hundreds of other bags. We could hear thousands of conversation snippets all around us. Nuts frantically called out for any friends or family members that might be trapped in neighboring bags. A few enterprising goobers began keeping rudimentary records of who was bundled where. I knew their efforts were futile, but we all needed something to keep us occupied during those uncertain times. I was able to peer out of a tiny tear in my canvas bag. I could just make out the letters "PCA" on an adjacent bag. The Peanut Corporation of Australia! Could I be destined for a Butterscotch & Caramel snack mix?

Suddenly my bag was slit open. My friends and I were unceremoniously dunked into a water bath. There may have been some chemicals included. We swished and sloshed for an eternity. Finally they drained the pool and dried us out. The nut right next to me was plucked away and dropped into a small bag labeled "aflatoxin testing". No one told me that we would have to study. I hope he was prepared for that test.

I guess they didn't think we were dry enough because we rode a conveyor belt into an oven, where we were subjected to a very high temperature. I felt cleaner afterward.

After that, we took another conveyor ride. People wearing masks and hair nets carefully watched us pass by. I never knew humans had so much nose hair. Every so often I saw one of my buddies get yanked off the belt and plopped into a bucket. Whatever they were looking for, I must not have had enough of it.

Everything that had been done to us seemed like a picnic compared to what came next. We were carried to a horrible place. I can hardly talk about it. Suffice it to say that when we emerged from the ordeal, we were shell-less. I can't say any more. It was horrifying. Not everyone made it through. Perhaps they were the lucky ones.

Since losing my shell, I've been lost in a dark, dark world. I have no sense of time or space. I'm locked in to a compressed shapeless void with no beginning or end. Strange things are touching me. Weird, sticky substances cling to my skin. I can sense a few of my fellow nuts nearby but I cannot communicate with them. Once in a while I move, but only for a very short distance. Machines whir and click and grind all around me. Can it get any worse?


Editor's Note: The stupid nut is stuck inside a Snicker's Bar in a vending machine parked at the Full Sail University student union.


I am thrilled that someone wrote 1011 words on the thoughts of a peanut.

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