It’s a little-known fact that the Assassin’s Guild of Just Down the Street is the entity responsible for creating the deadliest snack known to Men and Critters: Pringles.
Let’s examine it according to the Rules of Snackfood Etiquette, as established by the Lord High Marshall of Tastiness and Absconding with Others’ Food, James Higginbotham-Withyspiral-Anklebiter the 33 1/3. Firstly, the Packaging. An enclosed cylinder, it’s clearly meant for use as a striking weapon, as witness its molybdenum-reinforced edges. Imagine Li’l Jason Bourne, sitting alone at home/Safe House #23, agonizing over his latest failed relationship. And by ‘failed’, I mean ‘shot through the head by a bullet meant for him… AGAIN’. He’s munching on Pringles, letting the healing powers of Yellow #4 flow through his arteries. Suddenly, in through the reinforced safety glass window somehow crashes yet another activated operative, himself already primed to destroy by having been interrupted from his meal of Slim Jims just to have to take care of this Bourne character.
Bourne leaps up and, as is his wont, uses everything within reach as a weapon EXCEPT for an actual weapon. What, knives too good for you, Jason? If that IS your name? Fortunately, at the last second, while struggling for his life in the grip of Slim Jim the Pepperoni Assassin, Jason grabs his Pringles can and smashes it end-first against his assailant’s forehead. As the average Pringles container can withstand vertical force of up to 4,000 p.s.i. vertically, it’s more than a match for Jim’s non-reinforced skull, and the poor guy staggers backward, stunned and bleeding, cranium resembling a cookie sheet, but far less hunger-inducing.
At this point, we can move on to the second part of Pringles’ lethality index: the Pringles themselves. If you’ve ever tried to put a whole chip into your mouth, or, Gods help you, more than one at once, you’ll well remember the time your tongue inadvertently flipped the chips vertical, standing them upright like soldiers at attention. If you, unlucky soul, should bite down at this point, it will take a team of crack Republican Guard battle-surgeons to extricate the razor-sharp shards of Pringlematter from your cleft and abused palate.
For those of you unfamiliar with this sensation, here’s a little math for you: molecularly indestructible slivers + ridiculously fragile mouthflesh = FUCKING OW, DAMMIT. There’s a reason Pringles’ motto is ‘Everything Pops with Pringles’. So back to Jason Bourne, having retreated far enough from Slim “Cookiesheet” Jim to be able to now hurl three Pringles, shuriken-like, in rapid succession into the guy’s torso, causing internal bodily harm via punctured organs. A quick succession of impossible-to-make-out-what-he’s-doing-because-of-this-stupid-shaky-camera-style action direction combat moves, and it’s all over. The bad guy’s down, the audience is satisfied, and Jason Bourne has now eliminated yet another avenue to finding out his true identity, ensuring at least one more sequel. Coming in 2009: The Bourne Miscellany – a bunch of deleted scenes and outtakes thrown together and inflicted upon you, John Q. Public, because that franchise, like Bourne himself, is just too profitable to die. And who can we expect to see as primary sponsors? That’s right: Goldfish! Oh, wait… I’m telegraphing again. That’s next time. But hey, uh… how about them Pringles, eh?
I know all too well the world takes a daily beating
Please don't talk about murder while I'm eating
-- “Please Don’t Talk About Murder While I’m Eating”, Ben Harper