A Bee Truck Overturned On The Highway And Somehow We Didn’t Get A New Cereal Out Of It

I didn’t vaccinate my kids. I did it to save money mostly, but now in retrospect I realize I also didn’t vaccinate them because vaccination is unnatural. It’s actually much safer to just inject your child with things you find in nature and to do it yourself at home, or even better, to just expose your child to bees like they do in those titty-out jungle societies of the third world. And there’s some good news today for fans of healthy, all natural bee stings. Yesterday morning, outside of Seattle, a tractor trailer hauling roughly 14 million bees overturned on Interstate 5, releasing a giant swarm of disoriented, angry, African-Americanized bees into their natural habitat; the vicinity of children.

Many were stung, hopefully most of them under the age of five (prime stinging years) but the biggest question following today’s accident isn’t “where do I sign up for some of those titillating, homeopathic and completely natural bee stings?” No, the question on everyone’s mind is, why the hell didn’t this accident produce a new flavor of breakfast cereal?

Everyone knows that big accidents involving things like honey or peanut butter or Gushers result in new flavors that no one has considered. Who can forget all the horrific disasters at the Kix factories in the mind 1990s? Thousands died, but Oops all Berries made its horrific but delicious entrance into the American palate. Fruit Rollups killed more workers than Union Carbide, but we got those rollups that looked like pizza slices. There was a big fire at the Lunchables factory. Seventeen people died, but we got Warheads with our miniature hamburgers. It’s called capitalism guys, and it’s good when I’m the one consuming.

Yet today, a truck filled with honey crashed on the highway and there’s no exciting news for my mouth. How is that possible? Surely some of the honey must have splattered on a strawberry patch? Or perhaps we have to wait a couple of hours until a truck filled with chocolate, driven by a cartoon dog, crashes into the wreck while the Department of Agriculture workers are surveying all of the damage? Maybe the driver of the bee truck was a big fat Italian guy filled with pasta sauce, and when the steering wheel compressed his ribcage, causing mechanical asphyxiation and killing him, a bunch of Ragu squirted out and created a new type of honey-marinara?

It’s still early, so it’s anyone’s guess, but I will most certainly be truly soured if this bee truck accident doesn’t result in a new thing to shove in my mouth. People need to die to feed me. Children make my clothes. I want honey pasta, and I don’t care how many trucks have to crash for me to get it.