George Saunders - In Persuasion Nation

The poor things, he thinks. The poor, poor things. I should have done more. I should have started earlier. I could have seen it all as part of me.

Brad looks down. His feet are now two mini-blobs attached to two rod-shaped blobs that seconds ago were his legs, in his khakis.

He is going, he realizes.

He is going, and will not be coming back as Brad.

He must try at least to retain this feeling of pity. If he can, whoever he becomes will inherit this feeling, and be driven to act on it, and will not, as Brad now sees he has done, waste his life on accumulation, trivia, self-protection, and vanity.

He tries to say his name, but has, apparently, forgotten his name.

"Poor things," he says, because these are now the only words he knows.

A man and a woman sit in a field of daisies.

"Forever?" he says.

"Forever," she says, and they kiss.

A giant Twinkie runs past, trailed by perhaps two hundred young women.

The woman leaps to her feet and runs to catch up with the Twinkie.

"The sweetest thing in the world," the voiceover says, "just got sweeter."

The man sits sadly in the field of daisies. Luckily, a giant Ding-Dong runs past, trailed by perhaps two hundred young men.

The man leaps to his feet and runs to catch up with the Ding-Dong.

"But not to worry," the voiceover says. "There's more than enough sweetness to go around!"

The Ding-Dong puts his arm around the young man, and the young man smiles up at the Ding-Dong, and the DingDong bends down and gives the young man a kiss on the head.

A hip-looking teen watches an elderly woman hobble across the street on a walker.

"Grammy's here!" he shouts.

He puts some MacAttack Mac &Cheese in the microwave and dons headphones and takes out a video game so he won't be bored during the forty seconds it takes his lunch to cook. A truck comes around the corner and hits Grammy, sending her flying over the roof into the backyard, where luckily she lands on a trampoline. Unluckily, she bounces back over the roof, into the front yard, landing in a rosebush.

"Timmy," Grammy says feebly. "Call 911."

Just then the bell on the microwave dings.

We see from the look on his face that Timmy is conflicted.

"Timmy dear," Grammy says. "For God's sake. It's me. Your Grammy, dear."

Timmy comes to his senses, takes his MacAttack Mac &Cheese from the microwave, and sits languorously eating it while listening to his headphones while playing his video game.

"Sometimes you just gotta have your MacAttack," the voiceover says.

Grammy scowls in the bush. We see that she is a grouchy old unhip hag who probably wouldn't have even been cool enough to let Timmy have his MacAttack, but would likely have forced him to eat some unhip old-person gruel or fruit.

Then fortunately Grammy's head drops back, and she is dead.

An orange and a Slap-of-Wack bar sit on a counter.

"I have vitamin C," says the orange.

"So do I," says the Slap-of-Wack bar.

"I have natural fiber," says the orange.

"So do I," says the Slap-of-Wack bar.

"You do?" says the orange.

"Are you calling me a liar?" says the Slap-of-Wack bar.

"Oh no," says the orange politely. "I was just under the impression, from reading your label? That you are mostly comprised of artificial colors, an innovative edible plastic product, plus high-fructose corn syrup. So I guess I'm not quite sure where the fiber comes in."

"Slap it up your Wack!" shouts the Slap-of-Wack bar, and sails across the counter, jutting one pointy edge into the orange.

"Oh God," the orange says in pain.

"You've got an unsightly gash," says the Slap-of-Wack bar. "Do I have an unsightly gash? I think not. My packaging is intact, weakling."

"I have zero calories of fat," says the orange weakly.

"So do I," says the Slap-of-Wack bar.

"How can that possibly be the case?" says the orange in frustration. "You are comprised of eighty percent high-fructose corn syrup."

"Slap it up your Wack!" shouts the Slap-of-Wack bar, and sails across the counter and digs its edge into the orange over and over, sending the orange off the counter and into the garbage can, where it is leered at by a perverted-looking chicken carcass and two evil empty cans of soda.

"Now you have zero of zero of zero," says the Slap-ofWack bar.

"The Slap-of-Wack bar," says the voiceover. "For when you're feeling Wacky!"

Two best friends look at their penises under sophisticated microscopes.

"You call this Elongated?" says one man.

"Jim, I gained four inches," says the other. "Perhaps you should try my brand."

"What is your brand, Kevin?" says the other.

"My brand is, I hang a brick from my penis and stand for hours at the edge of the Grand Canyon," says Kevin.

"Okay Kevin," says Jim. "You've been my dearest friend since kindergarten. I'll give it a try."

Then we see Jim standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, brick hanging from his penis, while Kevin tiptoes toward Jim's car, and a voiceover says: Pontiac Sophisto: So sophisticated, it might just make you trick your best friend into dangling a brick from his penis!

While Jim is distracted by the pain of the brick on his penis, Kevin squeals away in Jim's Sophisto. As Jim spins around to look, his penis rips off and plummets into the Grand Canyon. Jim smiles wryly, acknowledging Kevin's trick but also Kevin's good taste in cars, then starts down into the Grand Canyon, to retrieve and, hopefully, reattach his penis.

A young man leaving a nursing home gives his ancient grandmother and grandfather what might be a final hug.

"My advice, son?" says the grandfather. "Find yourself a woman like this one.'

Turning to go, tears in his eyes, the young man drops his car keys. As he picks them up, a bag of Doritos falls out of his pocket.

The grandmother and grandfather race in fast-motion for the bag of Doritos, kicking, gouging, and biting each other. The grandfather finally wins with a hard elbow to the grandmother's throat, which knocks her unconscious.

"Grandpa, what are you doing?" the young man says. "It's just a bag of Doritos."

" Just a bag of Doritos?" says the grandfather.

"You speak lies, scum," says the grandmother, regaining consciousness. Then the grandmother and grandfather nod to the Doritos bag, which rams into the young man, who falls to the floor and is kicked repeatedly by his grandparents.

"Grandma, Grandpa, please, stop!" the young man says.

Hearing herself called Grandma, the grandmother hesitates. The Doritos bag scowls at her. The grandfather kicks her in the stomach, and she falls to the floor.

"Who do you think you are?" the young man screams at the Doritos bag. "Do you believe yourself to be some sort of god? You're a bag of corn chips, with tons of salt and about nine coloring agents! That's all! That's all you are!"

The Doritos bag takes a huge sword from behind the back of its bag and decapitates the young man.

"Now what do you have to say?" says the grandmother.

"Nothing," says the young man's head.

"Do you love Doritos more than anything?" says the bag of Doritos.

The young man's head hesitates.

The Doritos bag cleaves the head in two.

The grandfather, prompted by the bag of Doritos, kicks one half of the head into the street, where it is run over by a Doritos truck and reduced to mush. On the other, unmushed, half of a head, one eyebrow goes up in sudden fear.

"Care for a Dorito?" says the grandfather.

"Yes," the remaining half a head says.

"Yes please?" says the grandfather.