cognition

fair fair Perciville was doing better on the peanut butter than off of it. the first morning of withdrawls was to be expected: salivation, cravings, etc.
But by the second night he was in agony. He dreamt of a world of peanuts, sitting at bus stops waiting for their fair strawberry or rasberry better halves.
There was one peanut though, marcellus, who sat on his couch hiding from the ridicule of his freinds with his hands down his pants, and smoking cigarettes one after another. His huckleberry had left him cold in his sleep once she had met the larger, firmer, more goal oriented Josiah. He was left alone to sleep in the same bed as her juice stained sheets.
But this is not why he suffered ridicule from his peers. oh no! do not think his freinds would be so shallow!! it was his fallen success that they mocked. Since child hood he had had dreams of being swirled into a creamy delicacy (for he always admired the work of smooth over chunky) with other town members, bottled, and eventually smeared in unison with his fruity counterparts between two slices of fresh Wonder Bread. So after 11 weeks of wafting through his now tobacco laced home with only his increasingly insane thoughts, he took out his blender and through himself him. a tear.

needless to say, Perciville went out and bought and industrial sized tub of peanut butter. Smooth, of course. And he ate it all in one sitting.