I Heard Not a Peep

Special Easter Edition!!! There is a time-tested truism that (I love alliteration) we all know and love. Kids love melting stuff. Whether it's playing with candles at the dinner table, melting GI Joes with a magnifying glass, or stirring your ice cream until it's a big goopy mess, nothing quite satisfies the inner scientist in children like a phase change.

Enough of the justification. Let's melt some peeps!

You know 'em, you love 'em. Even if you don't eat them, you must at the very least appreciate the peep for what it is. A wad of magical Easter sugar. Roughly shaped into a fluff of baby chicken or more recently as bunnies. They come in all sorts of colors, have brown wax for eyes, and used to be made by hand with a big squeeze tube. So says the peep website.

One part of Peep Lore you may have missed, however, depending on the level of stick-in-the-muddiness of your parents, is the ability to bend their robust will to gladiatorial death match rife with radioactive peril. You've seen those websites that torture twinkies and such, well, Peeps are certainly not without their own devious susceptabilities!

If you put one in the microwave and run it for about a minute (45 seconds is safer, 60 seconds is just about playing with fire)...they swell up to double or triple their size, becoming amazing little marshmallow Jabba the Huts looking for a little slave-bikini-Leia action. Gotta love that slave-bikini-Leia. My wife understands.

One peep is nice, but a little too peaceful for this Easter. If you put two on the same plate, and stick toothpicks in them, pointed at each other....it's go time. They fight! They swell up in blobby battle until one gets popped! Actually that's pretty rare, they don't really pop...they'll just swell a little slower than the other guy. But anyway, how often do you get to create an environment where big fat sumo wrestlers fight with katanas? Not too darn often. Or, in my house, every Easter.

And being a fully fledged adult of legal drinking age, I took it up a notch and gave them cocktail swords. My fat ninjas are stocked.

I considered giving them pieces of metal wire and putting them on a stage of aluminum foil instead of wax paper...so it would be sort of a "death arena" but, well, our microwave isn't quite ready for the scrap heap just yet.

Lame excuses: it's really really hard to take pictures of things inside microwaves. Especially if you have one of those automatically turning plates. See, even with the little light, it's still pretty dark in there. Most autofocus cameras wouldn't be able to get a lock on anything. And if you could, it would be on the door of the microwave anyway. And since it's so dark, your exposure has to be long because you can't use a flash (again, it would reflect off the door), so everything comes out blurry. Don't worry, there are good pictures later on.

Its like two opposing blobs, fighting for control of a tiny tiny city. Really.

40 or so seconds in, they're huge, they're imposing, they're deadly! A fatal blow consists of the abstract appreciation for one peep swelling over the weapon of the other peep, thus constituting being run-through in slow motion, just like in a fancy hollywood "moving picture" that I keep hearing the whipper-snappers yakking about.

So the solution for pictures was to do a manual focus distance of 3 feet (plenty of room to swing the door open and get clear) and use a flash. Not too shabby! I had to be quick (not unlike a ninja) because as soon as you're not pumping their little sweet carcasses full of radiation, they deflate faster than Britney Spears-Federline's credibility as a recording artist. Oh, snap!

Soon it's all over. To the victor goes the spoils. Neither peep is the victor...I am. You can pick up their crusty corpses and gnaw on them...they solidify to a brittle tablet of sugar. Isn't that how Batman defeated that Clay Face guy once? Or how Spiderman defeated that guy who could turn into water? Anyway, it's how someone defeated someone else.

Happy Easter everybody, and God Bless! Remember the reason for the season.

Eating 50


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