For a long time, people have been very particular (even fanatical) about what they put on their toast. The other day, in fact, I was at a friend’s house eating toast and mentioned that I disliked marmalade as a topping. Immediately he screamed “hate speech!” and tried to cut out my liver and use it as a paste for his bread. Thankfully, the knife was dull and he was blind, so I received no serious injuries. But our meal was ruined from his dive across the table.
Marmalade-users have always been known to be a sect of bread-eaters who have completely disregarded philosophy by deciding to put something orange on their toast. For toast to retain its intellect, it must have a topping of the same color (brown) such as apple-butter, or–lets see–anything that isn’t orange. Orange has no intellect because it doesn’t know how to rhyme; it has a miserable existence and can’t rhyme with anything. Toast, being a partial judge, only likes unphilosophical toppings such as jam and jelly. It isn’t particularly fond of butter, but everyone likes butter, so it can’t argue.
It is only right to feel sorry for marmalade. It has never been liked, much like it’s cousin cranberry sauce. The great dislike for marmalade started in 305 B.C., when the marmalade-users decided to kill all the cows because butter was stealing the show. They lost the fight because they had no backing. Cranberry sauce users felt they risked losing their existence because they were only used one day out of the year. Thus the cows won the fight and marmalade was kicked out of the P.T.C. (Philosophical Toppings Club) and was forced to wallow in unused mason jars and only eaten by blind fanatics.