Anyone Else Like Chocolate?

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 theater of competition that is the modern sweets 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 Mars, Sandyford Industrial Park, Dublin 18, IRELAND, along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."

Sometimes when no one is home I enjoy separating M&M's into colour groups and pretending they're little villages of people with their own economic and social problems, and then I try to fix them through free trade agreements and other diplomatic measures.

This week Mars 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 a weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.

There can only be one.