You ever been at a friends house and he offers you a plate of cookies. And you take one, but then you just lose control and eat like 18 of them? And your friend is standing there, staring at you with a look that is kind of a mix of fear, confusion, and maybe a little excitement.
And then you realize the cookies are actually made of human flesh. And you say to your friend
“Hey.. these aren't cookies!”
And he says
“Now you’re one of us”
That’s not a true friend.
And yet you can’t help but admit that they were delicious. Does it really matter why their moist and chewy? Freshly baked or freshly killed, you loved ‘em. Let’s face it. You are one of them.
I hate it when that happens.