National Oreo Day

 

The Gremlins Have Discovered Oreos and Society Is Now in Grave Danger

I made a mistake today. Not a big mistake.

Not the sort of mistake that gets you exiled from polite society or put on a government watch list. Maybe.  Just a little one. 

I bought Oreos.

Now, in fairness, today is National Oreo Day, which seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea at the time. A festive treat. A small nod to culture. A biscuit of historical significance, created by the fine snack engineers at Nabisco back in 1912.

And if there’s one thing we appreciate here, it’s history. Unfortunately, so do the Gremlins.

Specifically the Gremlins currently residing in my home.

And the moment they discovered Oreos, the situation deteriorated rapidly.

It began innocently enough of course like it always does. I got home from grocery shopping, mildly overwhelmed and in desperate need of the loo. I quickly unpacked the groceries, and now that I think about it, in my rush to go and relieve myself, that's where it went wrong.  


I'd left the packet of Oreos on the table.


It appears that the Gremlins approached it the way archaeologists approach a newly unearthed tomb—slowly, cautiously, and with the understanding that something terrible was about to happen.  One of them—who I will not name but who seems suspiciously like Stripe on a sugar high—picked up an Oreo and turned it over in his claws. 

He stared at the cookie. He sniffed the cookie. He licked the cookie. And then he performed the ancient and sacred Oreo ritual.

He twisted it.

Friends… the way every Gremlin in the room froze. You could hear the gears turning.

They had just discovered modular dessert engineering. Within minutes the table looked like a snack-based crime scene.

Oreos were being:

  • Disassembled

  • Reassembled

  • Stacked into structurally irresponsible towers

  • Used as monocles

  • Used as currency

  • Used as what I believe was a religious offering.  

  • Mo Hawk was performing a mantra in flawless Russian while two others attempted to start what appeared to be an Oreo-based drinking song.

One Gremlin had separated six cookies and consolidated the cream into a single towering monument to poor decision-making.  Another had decided the correct method of consumption was to scrape the filling out with his claws like a raccoon opening a crab. 

A third was simply eating the cookies whole like a wood chipper with fur.

I attempted to intervene.

This was my second mistake.

Someone—who I refuse to name and who was definitely me—mentioned the traditional Oreo accompaniment as a poorly thought out plan to deescalate the impending situation. 

Milk.

The room went silent. Every Gremlin slowly turned to look at me.

I immediately regretted all the life choices that resulted in this situation.  This moment.  

Now, if you are unfamiliar with Gremlin law, there are two things you should know:

  1. Gremlins love chaos.

  2. Gremlins + water = exponential chaos.

(There is technically also a rule about not feeding them after midnight, but at this point the Gremlins treat that more like a polite suggestion.)
Milk, as it turns out, is mostly water.  What followed was less a snack and more a hydrological disaster, the sort normally associated with dam failures and poorly supervised dairy products.

Oreos were dipped. 

Oreos were dropped.

Oreos were flung with the sort of reckless enthusiasm normally reserved for Olympic hammer throwing. Milk was spilled in the process.

At one point a Gremlin attempted to dunk an entire stack of Oreos at once, creating what can only be described as a dairy-based landslide with dark chocolate debris. Someone turned on the kitchen light and half the Gremlins shrieked and dove under the table like vampires at a tanning salon.  Another had climbed onto the table and was screaming “DUNK IT AGAIN!” like an over-caffeinated cattle auctioneer.

The floor now resembles the aftermath of a cookie-based mudslide, which I feel is an environmental disaster category the insurance company should really start preparing for.

They are now convinced Oreos are their invention.


One Gremlin has begun stamping the cookie pattern into the wall like ancient cave art.


Another is wearing two Oreos as eyes and walking into furniture.


A third has attempted to build what he claims is an “Oreo factory,” which currently consists of:

  • One toaster

  • A spoon

  • Several crumbs

  • Dangerous levels of optimism, the kind typically seen just before someone invents a machine that should absolutely not be plugged in.

  • A blender that I have quietly moved out of reach for reasons I should not have to explain.


As I write this, I have observed:

  • There is Oreo filling on the ceiling.  In four rooms.  

  • Kevin is attempting to dip a turnip into milk.

  • Someone has glued two Oreos to the cat.  We don't have a cat. 

I am fairly certain Wickett is the only one behaving responsibly, and even he is quietly hoarding cookies behind the couch like a tiny fuzzy doomsday prepper. He is also humming quietly to himself while eating the filling first like a civilized creature.  At this point the situation had taken on the tone of one of those tragic holiday stories you hear about once a year, usually told in a dimly lit room while everyone quietly questions their life choices.

The Oreos are otherwise gone.

All of them.

The Gremlins are vibrating with sugar energy.

And I have just realized something deeply troubling.

National Cereal Day is on its way all too soon.

If they discover CEREAL and milk at the same time, I'm fairly certain I will not survive.  Brain has begun drafting what appears to be a business plan for mass production. I believe the phrase “Gremlin Industries” has been mentioned twice.

If you don’t hear from me again, assume the Gremlins have achieved full cookie-based sentience and are preparing world domination.  Stock your bunkers.  Declare DEFCON 1. 

Gremlin Damage Report:

  • Oreos Lost: 1 package

  • Milk Casualties: 1 litre

  • Furniture Status: Questionable

  • Gremlin Morale: Extremely High

  • Wrangler Sanity: Pending review


Send help. Or Oreos. Preferably both.