Inside the box, it was dark and scary. It gives you a sense of hopelessness, which the plastic wrapping doesn't take away. I'm suffocating in this hell hole. At least I'm special enough to be individually wrapped; I'd eat myself if I was stuck with another Devil Dog. Now that I think about it, I can't remember where we are. Perhaps the grocery store? Or are we still on the delivery truck? I hear voices... we must be at the friendly local Market Basket. I can tell because I think our boxes are being neatly pulled forward for the customer's convenience. WOAH! Everyone just woke up! I think we're getting purchased because I think we got picked up. There is commotion all around me as we all ponder what may be happening to us. OUCH! Yeah, we definitely just got thrown into the bottom of a carriage. We all knew we were doomed from that point on.
This was something we did as a writing exercise. The task was to talk from the perspective of a snack cake. Can you tell this is a Devil Dog speaking?
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