Death By Mayonnaise

My Hawaiian plate came with two scoops of rice and one scoop of macaroni salad. Yuck. I forgot to tell them to hold the macaroni salad. Mayonnaise has always disgusted me. What could be good about combining oil and eggs? I sat, reading, nibbling on my pulled pork and rice, avoiding the morsels that had come into contact with the evil macaroni salad. A tiny moth encircled my head, fluttering, floating, diving. Right. Into. The. Macaroni. Salad.

Oh no.

I looked around, wondering where it had flown off to. I looked up. I looked to my side. I didn’t see it in the air. I peered down.

Oh no.

Death by mayonnaise.

There it lay, motionless, drowned in the macaroni salad. Poor moth. Instead of feeling disgusted, I felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew mayonnaise was bad for you. And here was indisputable proof. You, too, could suffer death by mayonnaise. Don’t do it.

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