Uncle Ben has given us several crates of his latest snackpot. It's sweet and sour with rice, 300 calories, microwaveable in 90 seconds and suspiciously 'low fat'...
I checked the label on the back. 18.5g of sugar. That's a lot of sugar.
What are you doing to us, Uncle Ben? That's almost four teaspoons of sugar - half a can of coca cola and just a bit more than a Starbucks latte! What's wrong with you? Are you trying to give us all Type 2 diabetes?
While we're on the subject, and I don't want to get too critical, but what's with sticking a label on the front saying 'low fat' and then packing the product full of stuff that actually makes people fat? That's just mean. It's like repackaging arsenic with a slimfast wrapper. Oh sure, it'll make you much slimmer, this stuff, plus you won't have to worry about those pesky cravings again.
Anyway, there are about two hundred of Uncle Ben's snackpots stacked up in reception like sugary little timebombs.
So I looked up Uncle Ben. Guess what? He never existed. Behind that pleasant man in a bow-tie, who looks like he's quietly pleased with a field of perfect rice, there's a corporation which has had money on its mind since the 40s.
Uncle indeed! At least I've got the decency to actually exist! My nieces and nephews might treat me like some sort of entertainment-machine-climbing-frame sometimes, but at least they can be confident that I'm a real person. Plus I'm not going to sell them drugs packaged up in a friendly looking snackpot.
This is worse than the time I found out that the exceedingly good Mr Kipling didn't write The Jungle Book.
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