I won’t eat anything with eyes on it. Wait! What? You put some edible eyes on some doughnuts? Then it shall see it’s death as my wanting mouth descends upon it’s soft and jelly-filled body. It will also see the terror that is the slide down my throat and the hard landing in my stomach, where it will be compacted by the crunchy orange bones of half-digested Cheetos soaking in a river of Mountain Dew. There it will slowly dissolve until only the eyes remain to greet my next victim.
Edible eyes. I’d eat that. Say, my poops not gonna look like a brown trout now, is it? Between the corn and now the eyes, I’ll almost have a not-so Frosty the steamy brown snowman. Just needs a corn-cob pipe. I’ll be the jolly happy soul though. Feels good to unload, even if it does look back from the bowl.
