POPCORN

"Free Spicy Popcorn. Enjoy!"

There was an earthenware bowl in the kitchen, brimming with crispy bits of lovely popcorn. Someone had printed this notice out and left it there.

Now. I don't mind popcorn. While I think its association with cinema is a bit like someone saying you can't go to a football match without a koala, I actually think popcorn is mindlessly eatable: with friends, for day-dreaming, or indeed, watching a DVD. And yes, I don't think there'd be a problem with watching Match of the Day with your koala in your front room either, just to be consistent.

So, as I was passing, I casually picked up a couple of bits of spicy popcorn and nonchalantly threw them into my mouth, while I made myself a cup of tea.

...

It started slowly. Like most fires, the tiny spark happens imperceptibly as the combustible material ignites. This was no different - a tingling on the tongue, a sort of a gentle buzz of something... flavoursome.

I stirred my tea.

Then the oxygen fans the flames. Within moments the fire engulfs its primary fuel - in this case, unfortunately, my tongue. Trapped like a rat in a bonfire. My eyes started to water and bulge. My cheeks went bright red.

Then I dropped the spoon. Eyes wide, I doubled over in the kitchen.

"Oooooooohooooo" I said, sounding a bit like a steam train. The popcorn slipped down my throat like embers, crumbling from burning wood.

My mouth was alive with fire. I walked around for a bit, coughing and spluttering. Wave after wave of heat flooded my mouth and throat. It was a wonder there weren't circles of stars around my head, or angels harping on the breeze. Every nerve-ending was exploding with the fire, and my tongue felt as though it were suddenly a thousand degrees, and a thousand years old. I reckon Beelzebub wrote that note.

"Alright Matt?" asked someone, swinging through the kitchen door.

"Yhp" I croaked. There were tears streaming down my face and I was more than halfway to purple. "Js ndsm wtr."

"Ah. Spicy popcorn?"

I nodded, miserably, stretching for a glass from the cupboard.

That was over two hours ago. I'm still feeling a bit queasy. What was in those spicy popcorns? Someone made a joke about visitors from Russia and cathedrals, but I won't repeat it here.

I went back to the kitchen a little later. Underneath the printed "Free spicy popcorn. Enjoy!" sheet, someone had summarily attached a post-it, and in capital letters they'd simply written:

"IT'S A TRAP!!!"

Now that's a good post-it.