The Danger of Snow Peas

I feel compelled to warn you of a serious danger to life, limb and the pursuit of happiness.
It is a responsibility I take very seriously.

Snow peas.

They can show up anywhere at anytime regardless of what kind of food you have ordered. And... in the wrong hands they can be lethal.

Sure, I hear you snickering. "Snow peas?!?!?"

Yes. Snow peas.

They are a threat to national security. Just ask Beth. She's had years of military training teaching her to recognize and eliminate threats and transport pop tarts all over the world.

You see, snow peas are aliens. Pod people, if you will. They are thrill killers. Their only design is to come in, take over the plate of food you thought you ordered in complete safety and compel you to defend yourself from their vicious attack the best way you can.

Only when someone at the table is brave enough to withstand the onslaught is anyone safe.

Only when someone is willing to go into hand to pea combat is calm and order restored.

Only when violence is averted can the world snow peas... uh... know peace.

People, this is a serious issue!!

It compels the gravest of attention be paid!

Snow peas are the enemy of decent people everywhere.

If Xan hadn't been there to throw herself on the pile of snow peas and risk her own life to save Beth, we could have been picking out funeral clothing today.

Oh, the horrors of war! Patton was right when he said it. "Peas are hell!"

I myself have suffered grave indignity and injustice at the hands - uh, make that pods - of peas!

The time was the early '70's. The place was the dining room of my friend Renee's house. The danger zone... the chafing dish of peas with tiny white pearl onions nestled into their deceptively calming sea of green.

The perpetrator was none other than Renee's own mother, who frankly should have known better. After all, she was an adult who knew the dangers of the world. But little did we know it at the time, she had already been subsumed by the peas! They had taken over!

Employing all the usual stalling tactics of stirring the peas around to make it look like we'd ingested any of the enemy and poking along at the dinner table in hopes that dessert would be announced, we were unable to fool Renee's mother. After all, she was a pod person and she had a pea by pea count of the deadly green host upon our plates.

Subterfuge would be required to survive the impending tragedy in the making. Only sharp wits and little plastic purses could save us now! When Renee's mother left the room, ostensibly to bring the dessert tray around, we hastily scooped the offending menace into the little purses for disposal in a safe place later on. It was kill or be killed in this tango of torture and we were not about to please the peas and lose out on our valuable time to dress as go-go dancers while her mother napped after lunch! There are only so many hours in the day!

After the meal was completed, we carefully carried our enemy-laden purses to Renee's upstairs window where we unceremoniously dumped them out ... right upon the unsuspecting head of her brother Scott, who just happened to be mowing the lawn right beneath the bedroom window.

Thankfully, he was NOT a snitch for the enemy and kept his silence regarding our mission of digestive mercy. He even mowed over the peas repeatedly to ensure our kill. I think Scott hated the pod people as much as we did.

Remember this cautionary tale! It could well save your life. You never know what nefarious agents they have already placed in your path. Your very next meal may be infested with snow peas. And may God have mercy on your soul if you are left there at the table without Xan or a plastic purse to save you.