textfiles/games/CONSOLES/NINTENDO/zelda.txt

          Subject: Let's see if this surprises you.
       From: ewhac@well.UUCP (Leo 'Bols Ewhac' Schwab)
     Organization: Verbatim Corp.:  Abort, Retry, Ignore?
                   Keywords: true, chuckle
 
Truth is stranger than fiction.
 
I'm in the local supermarket, in the breakfast cereal aisle,
minding my own business, when I spot the latest offering from
Ralston Purina breakfast cereal division.  My jaw drops.  I
suppose I should have expected such a thing to happen sooner
or later, but I'm still incredulous.  I stare at the title of
the box (I swear I am not making this up):
 
"Nintendo Cereal System"
 
I try to picture in my mind's eye what form of life could
have thought this up.  Images of a fat rich guy in a 3-piece
suit come to mind.
 
I still can't believe this is real.  So I buy a box to see
what Ralston Purina's Highly Trained Battery Of Marketing
Experts has concocted to catch the eye of cute youngsters
who, upon seeing the familiar logo, will whine and scream and
shriek as only cute youngsters can do, shattering glass jars
nine aisles away, until every single person in the store who
isn't stone deaf will give the cute youngster a box just to
get him to shut up.
 
It costs $3.  Oh, all right, I lied:  $2.99.  "Hmmm," I think
to myself.  "$3 to become a member of a targeted group of
people, whose behavior patterns have no doubt been calculated
to three hundred forty seven decimal places, making it
statistically impossible for me to not buy this stuff."
 
I get it home, and discover that it is, in fact, *two* boxes
of cereal.  Or rather, that is to say, one box of cereal with
two kinds of cereal in it.  Put more clearly, it is one box
with two smaller bags in it.  One bag contains green-and-yellow
Super Mario Brothers cereal.  The other contains
red-yellow-and-purple Zelda cereal.  Clearly, as implied by
the packaging, if one were to eat Super Mario Brothers food
product, one would hear a cute sound effect and grow to four
times their normal size and be able to jump higher, run
faster, and whine and scream and shriek even louder than
before, possibly enough to force the President to order
military intervention to prevent a serious conflict with the
Russians.  ("Yoor noo veapon iss eenterferink vith our launch
detektors.  Cease now or vee toast yoo.") Since I've never
played Zelda, I do not know would would happen if your
youngster were to eat some Zelda food product.  However, I
imagine the results would be no less threatening to national
security.
 
Looking at the side panel revealed an impressive array of
ingredients.  There were two lists; one for Mario and one for
Zelda.  After running 'diff' in my head, I determined that,
with the exception of one ingredient, both cereals are
composed of the same substances.  The difference?  Mario has
"natural flavor," whereas Zelda has "artifical flavor."  My
my, those highly trained folks at Ralston Purina sure know
how to come up with lucid, detailed descriptions.
 
The side panel also gives the impression that this stuff is
Highly Fortified With Vitamins, Iron, Herbs, Spices, and The
Pain Reliever Doctors Recommend Most, and that one could
actually derive nourishment from these crunchy multicolored
bits of Advanced Food Technology if one were taken with the
unlikely desire to actually eat the stuff.
 
However, since I'm one of a rare breed of individuals,
characterized by a marked tendency to do unwise things (like
trying to make a living developing Amiga software), I was
naturally compelled to pour myself a bowl of Nintendo Cereal
System, douse it with milk, and try it.
 
Strange.  Memories of my childhood returned to me.  Memories
of me whining and screaming and shrieking at my own mother to
buy boxes of Fruity Pebbles, Trix, and Lucky Charms.  This
stuff tasted exactly like those cereals that I remember.  For
those of you who don't remember that part of your childhood,
and who don't have access to your mother to remember it for
you, let me describe Nintendo Cereal System in more familiar
adult terms.
 
Sugar-Frosted Sugar-Coated Little Lumps of Sugar-Impregnated
Crunchy Plastic Sponge.  The surface tension on these things
is so high that the milk beads up and rolls off.  What little
milk that does manage to penetrate the pellets undergoes
strange and no doubt Highly Sophisticated And Advanced
chemical reactions which would make Pons' and Fleischman's
cold fusion reaction look no more complicated than boiling
water.  Evidence of this reaction can be seen with the naked
eye by looking for the milk to start changing color.
 
In case your children are of above avert changing color.chman's
cold fusion re up and rolls off.  What little intelligence, and
are able to spot this marketing ploy for what it is, then
there is a backup ploy.  The boxes have printed on them tips
for playing Super Mario Brothers and Zelda.  So, while your
cute youngsters are eating this wonderous new piece of
culinary engineering, they can be reading up on how to get
even farther (and therefore spend more time) in Super Mario
Brothers and Zelda, which they will want to try out
immediately after finishing breakfast, and continue to do so
until you, the concerned parent, will yell and hop up and
down and throw heavy objects and insist they hurry up and get
dressed or they'll be late for school again.
 
Nintendo Cereal System.  Look for it in a supermarket near
you.  It shouldn't be too hard to find.  You'll know you're
getting close when you hear the sound of whining, screaming,
shrieking, shattering jars, and military maneuvers.
 
-- Leo L.  Schwab
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          Subject: Let's see if this surprises you.
       From: ewhac@well.UUCP (Leo 'Bols Ewhac' Schwab)
     Organization: Verbatim Corp.:  Abort, Retry, Ignore?
                   Keywords: true, chuckle
 
Truth is stranger than fiction.
 
I'm in the local supermarket, in the breakfast cereal aisle,
minding my own business, when I spot the latest offering from
Ralston Purina breakfast cereal division.  My jaw drops.  I
suppose I should have expected such a thing to happen sooner
or later, but I'm still incredulous.  I stare at the title of
the box (I swear I am not making this up):
 
"Nintendo Cereal System"
 
I try to picture in my mind's eye what form of life could
have thought this up.  Images of a fat rich guy in a 3-piece
suit come to mind.
 
I still can't believe this is real.  So I buy a box to see
what Ralston Purina's Highly Trained Battery Of Marketing
Experts has concocted to catch the eye of cute youngsters
who, upon seeing the familiar logo, will whine and scream and
shriek as only cute youngsters can do, shattering glass jars
nine aisles away, until every single person in the store who
isn't stone deaf will give the cute youngster a box just to
get him to shut up.
 
It costs $3.  Oh, all right, I lied:  $2.99.  "Hmmm," I think
to myself.  "$3 to become a member of a targeted group of
people, whose behavior patterns have no doubt been calculated
to three hundred forty seven decimal places, making it
statistically impossible for me to not buy this stuff."
 
I get it home, and discover that it is, in fact, *two* boxes
of cereal.  Or rather, that is to say, one box of cereal with
two kinds of cereal in it.  Put more clearly, it is one box
with two smaller bags in it.  One bag contains green-and-yellow
Super Mario Brothers cereal.  The other contains
red-yellow-and-purple Zelda cereal.  Clearly, as implied by
the packaging, if one were to eat Super Mario Brothers food
product, one would hear a cute sound effect and grow to four
times their normal size and be able to jump higher, run
faster, and whine and scream and shriek even louder than
before, possibly enough to force the President to order
military intervention to prevent a serious conflict with the
Russians.  ("Yoor noo veapon iss eenterferink vith our launch
detektors.  Cease now or vee toast yoo.") Since I've never
played Zelda, I do not know would would happen if your
youngster were to eat some Zelda food product.  However, I
imagine the results would be no less threatening to national
security.
 
Looking at the side panel revealed an impressive array of
ingredients.  There were two lists; one for Mario and one for
Zelda.  After running 'diff' in my head, I determined that,
with the exception of one ingredient, both cereals are
composed of the same substances.  The difference?  Mario has
"natural flavor," whereas Zelda has "artifical flavor."  My
my, those highly trained folks at Ralston Purina sure know
how to come up with lucid, detailed descriptions.
 
The side panel also gives the impression that this stuff is
Highly Fortified With Vitamins, Iron, Herbs, Spices, and The
Pain Reliever Doctors Recommend Most, and that one could
actually derive nourishment from these crunchy multicolored
bits of Advanced Food Technology if one were taken with the
unlikely desire to actually eat the stuff.
 
However, since I'm one of a rare breed of individuals,
characterized by a marked tendency to do unwise things (like
trying to make a living developing Amiga software), I was
naturally compelled to pour myself a bowl of Nintendo Cereal
System, douse it with milk, and try it.
 
Strange.  Memories of my childhood returned to me.  Memories
of me whining and screaming and shrieking at my own mother to
buy boxes of Fruity Pebbles, Trix, and Lucky Charms.  This
stuff tasted exactly like those cereals that I remember.  For
those of you who don't remember that part of your childhood,
and who don't have access to your mother to remember it for
you, let me describe Nintendo Cereal System in more familiar
adult terms.
 
Sugar-Frosted Sugar-Coated Little Lumps of Sugar-Impregnated
Crunchy Plastic Sponge.  The surface tension on these things
is so high that the milk beads up and rolls off.  What little
milk that does manage to penetrate the pellets undergoes
strange and no doubt Highly Sophisticated And Advanced
chemical reactions which would make Pons' and Fleischman's
cold fusion reaction look no more complicated than boiling
water.  Evidence of this reaction can be seen with the naked
eye by looking for the milk to start changing color.
 
In case your children are of above average intelligence, and
are able to spot this marketing ploy for what it is, then
there is a backup ploy.  The boxes have printed on them tips
for playing Super Mario Brothers and Zelda.  So, while your
cute youngsters are eating this wonderous new piece of
culinary engineering, they can be reading up on how to get
even farther (and therefore spend more time) in Super Mario
Brothers and Zelda, which they will want to try out
immediately after finishing breakfast, and continue to do so
until you, the concerned parent, will yell and hop up and
down and throw heavy objects and insist they hurry up and get
dressed or they'll be late for school again.
 
Nintendo Cereal System.  Look for it in a supermarket near
you.  It shouldn't be too hard to find.  You'll know you're
getting close when you hear the sound of whining, screaming,
shrieking, shattering jars, and military maneuvers.
 
-- Leo L.  Schwab

Download complete.  Turn off Capture File.