Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the
strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold
M&M duels.
Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure,
squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is
the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to
go another round.
I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and
the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that
the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theatre of
competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world.
Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or
pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be
a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength.
In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment.
When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest
of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack
it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars,
Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3×5 card reading,
"Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."
This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free
1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this "grant money." I have set
aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we
will discover the True Champion.
There can be only one.