It's taken me a few days to get around to writing this post. This is partially due to SpaceSquid's Sixth and Final Halloweenapalooza taking up so much of my time. Mainly, though, the delay represents the amount of time it has taken to process the assault upon my taste-buds, and the necessity of undergoing sufficient crisis counselling and neural restructuring to allow me to relate this shake experience without reliving it.
Today's shake: Marmite
Total Score: 1
General Comments: I swore I would never let it get this far. And it wouldn't have, except that several people in the department are bastards, who spread woe and misery through the halls like giant swine flu microbes with terrible hair. "Try this shake, Squid" they implore, their wide cow-eyes shining with feigned innocence. And I try it, because I am a people person who wishes to please his fellows, and also because I am a fat bastard who enjoys drinking milkshakes.
I seem to remember the cackles of malice commencing at roughly the same moment the first particles of Satan's own shake reached the back of my throat.
The best thing that can be said about this shake is that it doesn't taste of marmite. It tastes of sea-water. This, my friends, is a goddamned brine milkshake. Then, just after all the moisture in your mouth is sucked away, and you start wrestling with your gag reflex, then it starts tasting of marmite.
For the record, I can now state with absolute certainty that if I were stranded on a desert island with nothing to drink but jars of marmite, it would be saltwater shots right up until the merciful embrace of death.
Still, at least I don't have to actually buy this monstrosity now, which is a plus. Of course, in addition to everything else, it's ruined my carefully maintained category cycle system. I guess I'll just have to go out and have more chocolate and sweets. Maybe they'll help to erase the memory of what has been wrought upon me. Maybe...