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But this wasn't easy. It took cunning, manipulation, 6 bags of Oreos, 12 shots, one bottle of Everclear and 2 bottles of Jägermeister. We can now say without a shadow of a doubt that
the Cookie Monster is dead.
We did some research and found out that our "friend" has some drinking problems.
I got a hold of this mugshot from a DUI charge back on '03
So, armed with this knowledge and knowing our enemie's weakness, we set out to do away once and for all this industry menace which ate everyone's cookies after a week, month and sometimes even days.
We didn't know what we were getting into, though. I invited him out to a local bar here in Ft. Lauderdale - I won't name the place as I don't want to incriminate myself or anyone else involved. We bought him a few shots to get the party started, and the first thing I noticed was that mr. Monster was quite an asshole. He slammed the bar counter several times, whistling at the wait staff, pinching bottoms and spilling drinks. After about his 4th shot of whiskey, he began telling stories about all the sordid details that went on behind the scenes of Sesame Street. The drugs, sex and mayhem would one day make for a great VH1 special.
I knew I had to get him out of there when he began to stomp around on the bar thumping his chest and declaring:
"I ain't no damn smurf".
I promised him we were heading to a wicked afterparty complete with strippers and Mrs. Field's cookies. He was quite excited, but really could only mumble since he had drunk so much. Last count was 12 shots of assorted spirits.
When we arrived he was presented with a soft cookie of the Keebler kind and a bottle of everclear.
Everyone was amazed when he began dipping his cookies in his booze. This cat was H A R D C O R E.
I tried my best to keep up, but knew I needed to stay sober, when he put the bottle of deathjuice away, his eyes actually stood still for once and he looked directly at me. He now seemed to have a clear understanding of my intention. He began to scream "You motherfu..." and then swayed dramatically before falling over. He stopped breathing. It was over and we were almost free.
After our escape, I had a friend from CSI Miami (a little redhaired fag you may know as Heratio) send me a copy of the crime scene photo. Here it is:
So there you have it, thanks to
SapphicCash Cookies are now no longer a problem. I can see many other programs following suit, since, well, this blue menace is no longer a problem.
Oh yeah, and thank god the intraweb is anonymous, because this is actually like, evidence if you guys knew who I was, right?
** and just to clarify; this means all cookies are set to expire in 30 years, but
are over-writeable. Thanks, Cookie Monster.