An Apple A Day Doesn't Keep PhoneProblems Away
By Nintendo Maximus
Disclaimer: I don't own Apple Jacks or its commercials; if I did, the apple wouldn't be losing all the time, and that stupid cinnamon stick would be dead. I also don't own Looney Tunes (this fanfic is based off of a story in their comic book).
Author's Note: In case you didn't gather it from the disclaimer, I really hate the way Apple Jacks is being advertised these days. Seriously, what is with those ads? Are we supposed to be rooting for the cinnamon stick? 'Cause he's not a very good role model if you ask me. The apple is a far more likable character, and yet those pinhead executives at Kellog at doing everything to make sure he never wins against the cinnamon stick. Are they trying to give us the idea that cinnamon is better for us than apples (which it isn't)? The campaign makes even less when you look at the ingredients list and notice that apples are listed right there on it! Plus, not only does that stupid cinnamon stick flaunt his victories like it's OK to be a showboater, he's also a Jamaican stereotype. And they make him the protagonist? The apple should be one who's winning, especially since he's the food that the cereal's made of. But until Kellog listens to our demands and teaches the cinnamon stick a lesson in humility, check this out.
"When you pour a bowl of Apple Jacks, sweet CinnaMon races to you."
On a sunny street somewhere in Los Angeles, Steve V. CinnaMon was making his daily rounds through the town, singing his theme song as he rode around on his skateboard.
"Here I come, I yam CinnaMon,
Hear me roar, I yam CinnaMon.
I talk wit' a stupid accent
An' set a bad example
For children everywhere.
My name is Steve V. CinnaMon,
It is not some udder name,
I like to spread de message
Dat apples are evil
Even dough I'm less healt'y.
Listen to me, Mr. CinnaMon,
Don't you ever eat apples,
Dey'll never get into Apple Jacks
'Cause de sweet taste of CinnaMon
Is de winna, mon."
CinnaMon didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that most of the words in his song didn't actually rhyme, nor was he paying any attention to the cars he was damaging by skating in front of them at point-blank range. All he cared about was jumping into some stupid kid's bowl of Apple Jacks cereal and swimming around in it like it was perfectly okay to do so.
"But there's always a Bad Apple who's trying to get there first."
CinnaMon turned a corner, figuring from the narrator's words that right at this point he'd have to anticipate an attack from the rival in question. Not that it would matter to him, though. He'd figure a way to make the trap work to his advantage. Luck always seemed to be on his side, after all.
But after a few seconds of skating past the corner, CinnaMon stopped and looked around. Bad Apple was nowhere in sight.
"Um... Bad Apple? Where'd joo go, mon?" CinnaMon took up his skateboard. "Ain't joo gunna cum try an' stop me?"
"Yeah, where is that stupid little creep?" asked the narrator. "I'd like to find him and pound him, 'cause I hate apples SOOO much and want to trick people into thinking that they shouldn't be eating them."
"Uh, ya, mon, I agree wit' you," said CinnaMon, "but I don't t'ink badmouthing Bad Apple out loud is gunna get 'im to come out."
"Eh, what's up, stickly-man?" said a nearby voice.
CinnaMon looked downward where he heard the voice. Sitting right at his feet was a telephone, with its base in the shape of an apple. "Uh... what is de meaning ov dis?" he asked.
"Sorry, but I can't come to the studio today, stick-man." Bad Apple's voice could be heard coming from the open banana-shaped receiver. "There's a Fruit and Vegetable War going on, and the Grape Army need my help. You understand, don't you?"
CinnaMon put his hand to his chin. "Uh... I guess so..."
"That's the spirit!" said Bad Apple over the phone. "Now ya don't mind if I phone it in, right? Right. So let's take it from the top again, arright?"
"OK, if joo say so." CinnaMon turned to the narrator and said, "Joo heard him, Meester Narrator. Let's take it from de top again."
"All right, you're the boss," muttered the narrator. "All righty, then... ahem When you pour a bowl of Apple Jacks..."
The narrator continued saying his opening line again, and again CinnaMon skateboarded downtown, singing his annoying song again. But right when the narrator mentioned Bad Apple again and CinnaMon crossed the corner, things started to get frustrating.
"What'd you say, Mr. Narrator?" Bad Apple asked over the line. "I couldn't hear ya there; I just went through a tunnel. Start again."
CinnaMon slapped his forehead. "Ugh! He just said your cue, Apple-mon!"
"Well, he's gonna have to say it again," he heard Bad Apple say. "Start again."
CinnaMon sighed and went back to his starting point.
The narrator sighed as well. "Sheesh, no wonder I don't like fruits... ahem When you pour a bowl of whatever this cereal is named..."
CinnaMon skateboard down the road and around the corner once more. But before he was even halfway through with his song, he got interrupted again.
"Hold that thought, you guys," Bad Apple was heard saying. "I got a call on the other line. Hey, Sam? Apple here. We still on for Bowling for Pasta and Brontosaurus Ribs?" And with that, there was a clicking sound on the phone.
"'ELLO! Excuse me! I'm still here!" CinnaMon picked up the receiver and talked into it. "Hello? Apple? Are you still dere?" He put it down and turned to face his offscreen superior. "Meester Director, I, I, I think we've been disconnected. What should I do?"
"Just keep going," said the unseen director. "We'll work around it."
"OK then, you're the director." CinnaMon walked back to where he started and began his ditty again.
Suddenly, some slightly dirty-looking footage of Bad Apple appeared right when the narrator's second line came up. He was holding up a giant magnet and declaring, "I'm gonna get there first!"
CinnaMon stopped in his tracks. "Geez, mon! What was dat?" he asked.
"Stock footage," the director replied. "Don't worry. No one will notice."
Then another piece of stock footage appeared, this one showing Bad Apple chuckling as CinnaMon fell down the manhole he had opened up.
"Oh, come on now, mon!" CinnaMon objected. "Dis is ridiculous!"
Yet another stock footage piece came up, this one showing Bad Apple, wearing his CinnaMon disguise, tumbling right into the lamppost outside the house.
A grim expression crossed CinnaMon's face, bearing an anger vein, before he threw his skateboard on the ground. "DAT'S IT! I quit, mon!" he screamed, and stormed off the set. "I cannot advertise cereal in dese conditions! My agent is so fired for dis..."
The narrator watched CinnaMon storm off. "Well, I guess if CinnaMon's qutting these ads, I guess I quit too! Maybe you guys can get that narrator from 'The Powerpuff Girls' to do these commercials from now on!" And with that, he stormed off too.
Inside the nearby house, a certain someone watched as the Jamaican cinnamon stick stormed off, never to return, along with his narrator.
"Heh-heh, I don't know why I didn't think of this before!" Bad Apple said heartily as he relaxed in the bowl of Apple Jacks that had long eluded his taste. "At last I finally beat that stupid Stickamon to Apple Jacks! Now that I've brought the even sweeter taste of apples to Apple Jacks, I feel..."
Bad Apple looked at his surroundings. All he saw was the green and flesh-colored O's that surrounded him, and the milk in which he sat.
"...Kinda bored, actually."
So as you can see, if Apple was smart enough to, say, sleep over at a house that has Apple Jacks for breakfast, maybe then he'd have the winning edge. But he doesn't, 'cause those Kellog bastards think we'd rather see CinnaMon win. I mean, if they don't stop that advertising campaign soon, I might as well just stop buying their products. Wouldn't you?