Cereal Monster

[The following letter was sent in by Mr. Travis Gummerschmitt for the op-ed piece in last weeks Palukaville Times]

Dear Readers,

Do you ever walk downstairs in the morning to find your favorite cereal box in the pantry, only to realize that crumbs remain? This happens to me often. I stroll down the steps, excited for my favorite cereal, when, lo and behold, only sugar particles tumble out into the bowl. Sitting there, upset, eating sugar milk, I plot revenge on the person responsible. He or she ate my cereal, destroyed its livelihood, and didn't even have the decency to finish it off. Instead it sits in the cupboard suffering through the last ounces of life it has left.

One time I confronted my Mom about the situation.

"Yo Mama Mia" I said inconspicuously.

"Yes dear?"

"Do you know who has been eating all the cereal and only leaving the sugar particles in the box?"

"No I don't...Does that mean I should buy some more?" Her tone was nice. Maybe too nice. I moved in close to see if her breath smelled of sugar residue. She kept her mouth closed. Very crafty.

"Yea, I guess you should buy more" I said, inches from her face.

The next day there was a full box calling my name out. I ate two bowls and put the box back. The following day, sugar particles filled barely enough of the bowl to cover the goldfish picture on the bottom. It was getting ridiculous. Of course, I still suspected members of my own family. And to all you people out there who suspect the same, let me tell you that you are far from correct.

One day I had had enough. It was September...or maybe June...when I made my way into the pantry for a nutritious, yet delicious start to the day. Mom had just purchased a new box of cereal the day before, so I knew that it would be there, ready to be eaten. Instead, what I found was an already opened box with not enough cereal to fill Gary Coleman's stomach. Then it hit me. Maybe someone was sneaking in to my house at night and eating my cereal while I dreamt of cows flying over Jupiter. But who could it be?

To find out the mystery, I rigged a newly purchased cereal box with a high tech alarm system. This way, if anyone tampered with my food during the wee hours, I would spring from my bed and catch the perpetrator in the act. So, that evening, I fell into a deep sleep until three in the morning when, all of a sudden, the alarm sounded. Unfortunately it takes me a minute to get going after I wake up and instead of racing down the stairs to catch the culprit, I took a minute to gather myself and wipe the sleep from my eyes. Needless to say, by the time I got to the pantry, the cereal had been eaten and all I saw was either the back end of some creature or a shadow that looked like my aunt Celia. The next day I bought another box of cereal and set up another alarm trap. This time I knew I must stay awake if I were to catch the hideous cereal fiend.

Let me tell you, it is tough staying awake past one in the morning when the TV only plays infomercials and Spanish game shows. After the third consecutive game show where the host exclaimed "Eye yei ei" and twirled around until he got dizzy, I passed out. In the middle of a recurring dream about Eskimo Elves who live in straw houses, the alarm went off. Waking suddenly and turning my head, I saw a hairy creature frozen in fear with the cereal box attached to his hand. It did somewhat resemble my aunt Celia.

"Who are you?" I asked. He turned slightly and responded in a calm voice.

"I'm the Cereal Monster."

"The what?"

"The Cereal Monster...you know...I sneak into people's houses and eat their cereal."

"Why do you do that?" I thought the question had to be asked.

"Because I'm the Cereal Monster. It's what I do." His reply was like a smack to the face on a cold winter's day.

"But why do you keep taking my cereal? Don't you terrorize other people's pantries with just as much fervor?"

"Well, of course, but you always have a fresh box waiting for me. Plus I like your goldfish bowls." After saying this, he took the box, sat down at the table, and poured himself a bowl.

"How come I've never heard of the Cereal Monster before?" I asked.

"Well...It's probably because I've never been caught before."

"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Big Foot?"

"I can see how you would make that connection. You see, Big Foot is my cousin." I sensed a smile underneath all of his facial hair, which had attracted a good portion of milk residue by this time.

"Don't you get jealous that he gets all the press? I mean, what has he ever done? Here you are, stealing people's cereal for years and years, never getting caught. No one suspects a thing. But Big Foot? He's always getting spotted, but never doing anything." The Cereal Monster's eyes light up as the words tumbled out of my mouth.

"That's exactly what I've been saying all these years. You know, we have family parties and those sorts of things, and my parents are always telling me that I should be more like Big Foot. But seriously...all he does is roam a forest and get spotted by amateur photographers. I'm in the streets, busting my butt every day, getting no respect." He stopped for a moment and poured himself another bowl. I felt it was a good opportunity to interject.

"So tell me this Mr. Monster...if you've never been caught before, how come you aren't afraid I'll go to the press about the whole thing?" This question brought a considerable amount of laughter and some milk squirted out of his nose.

"Because I'm going to kill you before I leave." His words echoed through the halls for a moment before I responded.

"You're what?"

"I have to. It's the Code of the Monsters."

"What is?"

"Section 43.35 of the Monster Code of Ethics states that in the event of sudden discovery the monster must stop the spread of his existence by any means necessary. And since I have no way of knowing for sure that you won't spill the beans to any sweet talking Sally that walks by, I have to eliminate you."

"But you are a monster that eats cereal. How will you kill me?"

"I haven't thought that out yet. Maybe tie you to that chair and watch you die." I was puzzled by this answer because it made no sense.

"That won't kill me."

"It won't...you see, I've never actually had to do this before."

"How about we make a deal? If I beat you in chess, you will let me live."

"I'm not Death and this isn't a Bergman film. I'm the Cereal Monster and this is real life. Just one more bowl and it will be lights out for you." He poured more cereal into his bowl, leaving only the sugar particles in the box.

"I have one more idea Monster."

"What is it?"

"What if I assured you unlimited cereal for the rest of your life? Would you let me live?"

"How is that possible?"

I straightened up in my chair and glanced around the room, then stared the monster straight in the eyes.

"It goes something like this. I happen to know the man in charge of a major cereal production company, and every year they have a contest that gives out free cereal for the rest of your life. He has a drawing and lets me pick out the lucky winner. This drawing happens to be next week. I'll hold your name in my hand and only pretend to pick a winner, but actually just pull your name out of the giant bowl. Then you will be able to enjoy free cereal without all the hassle of breaking and entering for the rest of your natural life."

The monster stared at me for what seemed an hour. In fact, it was an hour, because he really had to think about the offer. Finally he spoke.

"Do you honestly think you can pull this off?"

"Of course I can."

"But it isn't honest" he said.

"Neither is killing a person" I retorted.

"Touché" he said. Then we discussed out plans to illegally win the Cereal for a Lifetime Sweepstakes before he left into the stillness of dawn.

A week later, outside of the local cereal plant, hundreds of people held their breath in anticipation of the drawing. I clenched the monster's winning ticket in my left hand and, when it was time, stuck my right hand into the bowl, only to realize my mistake after I had selected Beatrice Perkins as the contest winner. That night, I knew the monster would return to kill me for my horrible mishap. At two-thirty he arrived.

"Nice work Einstein" he roared as he entered through my front door.

"Sorry...I don't know what happened."

"Well I do. I made a deal with an incompetent airhead."

"There's no room for name calling Mr. Cereal Monster. I made an honest mistake. Obviously you weren't supposed to win that contest because we had it rigged. It wasn't fair."

"Who cares about fair? I want cereal for the rest of my life without any worries. Sneaking around in the dark scares me, especially when these people keep pit bulls in there houses." He paced up and down the hallway with the anxiousness of an expectant father. Only his baby was cereal, and it wasn't being delivered any time soon.

"Well, I've said I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can do." My heart raced with the possibility of being killed by this horrid monster. He sat down at the table and tapped his foot against the floor.

"I'm going to be honest with you kid...I don't want to kill you."

"Well that's a relief."

"Yea...but I don't know what else to do." It was at this point that he began to cry. I had never seen a monster cry before, and it was just as humorous as I could have imagined. His fur shook with every sob and his whimper was reminiscent of a school girls. While restraining my laughter, I sat next to him and put my arm around him in comfort.

"It's alright big guy," I said, "I have another idea."

"What is it this time?"

"Well...Since we always seem to have a lot of cereal and since you like our bowls so much, how about we buy extra cereal for you and let you has some. You can just come over and eat as much as you want, whenever you want."

"You'd do that for me?" He said while wiping the tears from his whiskers.

"Of course I would. I mean, what other option do I have?"

"I guess you're right" he said.

So, when all was said and done, the Cereal Monster agreed to come to our house and eat cereal whenever he wanted, without all the sneaking around in the middle of the night. And if you ever come into contact with the Cereal Monster's relatives, who take things without asking, remember that compromise and sharing seems to do the trick.

Sincerely,

Travis Gummerschmitt

[The following is a response letter that the Palukaville Times received in regards to Mr. Gummerschmitt's letter.]

Dear Editor,

Mr. Travis Gummerschmitt recently stated that I bore a resemblance to a Mrs. Celia Gummerschmitt, his aunt. To this, I must disagree. His aunt is much hairier. Secondly, I do not cry like a school girl. I have a very masculine cry that is acceptable in today's age of the "new man" and is very proud that I can express my feelings through crying.

Yours Menacingly,

The Cereal Monster