.Desiccated Madness.

Today, I witnessed someone buy a Bounty by choice.

It happened whilst I was standing in the queue at my local garage - which is stocked with pretty much every well-known confectionary you could think of, yet despite being spoilt for options, the woman behind me still told her friend she wanted a Bounty.

I never knew such a thing was possible. I thought they were only ever eaten by those faced with slim pickings after sifting through boxes of Celebrations at Christmas. Yet here was a woman who would most likely have eaten the Bounties first; she must be a sadist.

I mean, let's not beat around the bush: Bountys are fucking horrible; in fact they're the Devil's chocolate. Eating one's akin to biting into a bar of soap. Up until now, the only person I've ever known to enjoy one is my dad, which is why I'll usually foist upon him the aforementioned Christmas treat dregs, and it's possible he only eats them out of politeness.

The woman in the garage, however, knew exactly how almost uneatable dross she wanted, which incidentally, was enough to warrant a double bar; he's a braver woman than me and I'm noteven a woman.

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