I wrote a series of letters to "Snack Brands", the owner of my favourite brand of chips, "Thins" Cheese and Onion flavour. I'd like to clarify that while below is a work of fiction, there's nothing fake about my love for "Thins" Cheese and Onion flavoured chips.
Your flavour of "Thins" Cheese and Onion flavoured chips are the best thing about my day! After I get up off the futon (trouble in paradise!) the first thing I think about is that first bight of your delicious brand. Although my wife re-deposits my salary for me, leaving scant in the ol' savings account, I routinely collect enough loose change to purchase your bites of heaven.
Dear Snack Brands,
My wife came through the door clutching an empty bottle of moscato and laughing at 2:04 am. She spent 5 minutes picking apart a rotisserie BBQ chicken on the floor, licking the solidified grease off her fingers. I could smell him on her. I couldn't stand it any longer.
"I-- I know where you've been. With him. My own--brother"
She didn't even raise her head.
"I personally don't see any family resemblance. Bigger shoulders, bigger house, bigger...head"
She laughs manically and shuffles her mass towards me, chomping on the tip of a chicken wing.
She throws the empty wine bottle at the bin, missing the lid and bouncing to my feet.
"That's not meant to go in the bin", I said.
"Your fucking incredible. I'm screwing your own brother and your taking about recycling? You know what, you should go in the recycling. Maybe some parts of ya can go towards making a real man".
At this point I hear a high pitch, low volume squeal, like when your ears adjust after a flight. The next thing I remember, I wake up in the bathroom. I must have cut myself on the empty wine bottle and passed out, because there was blood all over the floor. I stand up and she's there in the bath. Hair matted. Chicken wing still in her clasp.
The dirt is tougher than I thought it'd be. I bring a few bottles of water from the parked car and wet the ground. With each clanging of the shovel against the rocks, the reverberations run up my hands and into my very soul. It rings "freedom".
I worked so hard that I was sick on the side of the road. I make sure to wash it with water and some bleach I found at home. I'm hungry now, and through the tears and snot, through the mess of images pushing through my brain like different coloured putty, a memory rings out.
I bought a bag of "Thins" Cheese and Onion Chips this morning.
The plastic bag breaks as my hands dive through it. I'm trembling so much that when I finally free the bag, it bursts open onto my lap. And each morself of your delicious brand is better than the last. Each bite is a a new experience to be had; lost in a Eurpean country, riding a motor bike across the Northern Territory, making love to a young, happy girl, youth searing from her eyes into mine.
Thank you Snack Brands.