EvilMister Learns a Sad Truth

The place where I work is currently in the process of making about 800 trillion pounds of this shit called surimi. (I shit you not ... we have to do a thousand batches of this stuff, and each 'batch' yields roughly three thousand kilos of product!) It's mostly sugar and polyphosphates, and this motherfucking stuff fills the air like goddamned snow. It gets everywhere. And since it's a sugar product, once it hits open skin, it sort of glues your fingers together, y'know, like when you use Krazy Glue. It also gets up in your beak and makes it feel like you got nosehairs hanging out everywhere.

The sad truth is that I will not, over time and continued exposure to this airborne crud, turn into the Kwisatz Haderach. I will not get the neat blue within blue eyes. I will not get to wear the awesome stillsuits. There will be no riding of massive worms through the vast desert-seas of surimi, and I most certainly won't be able to crack concrete foundations into dust. Nor, I suspect, will I 'get' to have a crazy-ass knife fight with a semi-clad Sting.

What I will get if I inhale enough of this crap is the mother of all nosebleeds, because the phosphate base will turn my beak into a schnozz that belongs on a habitual cocaine user.

Now, maybe it's unfair of me to try and corner the market on prophets, pariahs, and the supernatural, but come on, man! It's the fucking Kwisatz Haderach! I could be ruler of the fucking Universe.

Maybe when we switch over to something with garlic as an ingredient, I could arrange to get hit by lightning and turn into the Flash.