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It was another Payday and I was tired of Mr. Goodbar. I saw
Miss Hershey standing behind the Powerhouse on the corner of
Clark and Fifth Avenue when I whipped out my Whopper and
whispered, "Hey Sweetheart, how'd you like to Crunch on my
Big Hunk for a Million Dollar Bar?" Well, she immediately
went down on my Tootsie Roll, and it was like Pure Almond
Joy! I couldn't help but grab her delicious Mounds because it
was
easy to see that this little Twix had the Red Hots. It was
all I could do to hold the Snicker and Krackle as my
Butterfinger went up her tight little Kit Kat and she started
to scream "Oh Henry, Oh Henry!" Soon she was fondling my
Peter Pan and ZagNut and I knew it wouldn't be long before I
blew my Milk Duds clear to Mars that gave her a taste of the
old Milky Way. She asked me if I was into M&M, but I said,
"Hey Chicklet, no kinky stuff." I said "Look you little
Reese's Pieces, don't be a Zero, be a Lifesaver. Why don't
you take my Whatchamacallit and slip it up your Bit 'O'
Honey?" (What a piece of Juicy Fruit she was, too!) She
screamed, "Oh Crackerjack, better than the Three Musketeers!"
as I rammed my Ding Dong up her Rocky Road and into her
Peanut Butter Cup. Well, I was giving it to her Good 'N'
Plenty, when all the sudden . . . my Starburst! Yeah, as luck
would have it, she started to grow Chunky and complained of a
Wrigley in her stomach. Sure enough, nine months later, out
popped . . . Baby Ruth!
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