This has simply gone too far.

What?

Advertising.

It has just gone too far? Today?

No, of course not but I was shopping and I picked up some … did you know that they are now giving the goldfish personalities and names?

The goldfish?

On goldfish crackers.

Are those crackers?

They call them crackers.

I could call a banana a piece of cake, but it isn’t.

They’re crackers, what else would they be? But that isn’t my point.

It is, however, mine. For being serious, they can not be crackers.

Well they aren’t cookies.

Exactly, the closest thing they relate to is the cracker, so they are considered crackers.

Strange mutant crackers that are not at all cracker-like.

They are very cracker-like except in shape.

Don’t hate on the goldfish, ‘Tashi. They rock.

I am not hating upon them, simply questioning their categorization.

Anyway my point was, regardless of what they are, they are now giving them names and personalities.

But they all look the same, no?

Yes.

So then?

Do they describe them as a clone race, raised from vats to perfect consumption?

Oooh, that might be good.

No they just have a picture of a goldfish cracker, with, say, sunglasses, and a name for it and a quote, and something like a favorite movie.

I will only eat goldfish crackers whose favorite movie is Taxi Driver.

How could you tell?

Yes, they are all the same. One must suppose that the sunglasses fall off when they are forced, holocaust-like, into bags.

Woa, man.

That is a bit strong.

I would be fine with a talking rabbit selling me breakfast cereal…

Hahahah! Stupid rabbit, not getting’ my Trix.

…Of course not. But this is different. This is giving anthropomorphic identities to food stuff.

Eat Kevin, he likes to play soccer.

Yes!

It makes me more likely to buy them, actually.

Really?

Of course! There is something so deliciously wrong about that it attracts me.

But they are selling these to children, not to the likes of you, Natasha.

The likes of me? What am I now, Sven? The monster under your bed? An unfeeling, uncaring monster of some sort?

No, of course not, I meant “adults.”

Oh!

Though, ‘Tashi, I mean, you might hide under children’s beds to freak them out.

I have not in years!

Regardless! Isn’t that beastly?

I think you have it wrong though.

Oh?

I do not think they are introducing you to the crackers you eat. I think they are telling you about the traitors, the ones who lured the others into the bags.

Meet your local Nazi, that sort of thing?

Yeah.

So can we please go to the deli next door and buy some goldfish crackers now?

You’re horrible!

I’m hungry!

You have a plate of chicken fingers in front of you.

None of these chicken slices led the others to the slaughter.

Meat is murder though.

Tasty, tasty murder, yes I am aware, still, those stupid crunchy little things. I desire them. Bring them to me?

You want us to go buy you a bag and fetch it back here? Why can’t you go?

My poor chicken would get cold.

You are as bad as the goldfish on that bag!

Uh-huh! So go get me some?

Only because I want some myself.

Ditto. We’ll be right back.