The other week I went to Regal Cinemas (who suck, btw) and got myself a jawbreak from a machine. Motherfucker cannot be broken. I ran into a huge deli in midtown to try and get a paper bag to break it in but they didn’t have any so I stole a sheet of tinfoil sandwich wrap from the counter. I make it outside when the Mexican chef yells at me “You have to pay for dis, meighn!” I turn and say “You want me to pay for a piece of tinfoil? How much do I owe you?” The man only spoke enough English to chastize me in public so I went on my merry way, smashing my damn jawbreaker-tinfoil-comet into every building, statue and fire hyrdrant I could find. Metal, glass, porcelain, concrete, stone and whatever the fuck I felt like hitting, I cannot break this shit. It’s still in my pocket as we speak. I cannot fit it into my mouth and I’ve run out of ideas to break it.
I think I might need to just buy another jawbreaker and smash them both together.
True Story.
