I remember it like it was yesterday... I was eating an unfrosted pop tart for the first time, unknowing of its horrors. I took one bite. I swallowed. Then it happened. My throat began to close up, I was deathly thirsty, I couldn't breath. I looked around for anything in a panic, water, milk, nothing. I fell to the floor. As the air quickly was leaving my veins, along with my consciousness, I slowly crawled to the fridge for some milk. I tried, but was too weak. I laid back, closed my eyes, and began to accept that death was close. Then, a bright light appeared, causing me to open my eyes. I stared into the bright light, until I saw it: a box of frosted Pop Tarts. I quickly grabbed one and took a bite. Suddenly, everything changed. Air began filling my lungs again, things began appearing brighter; I was alive again. I began to cry as I finished off that beautiful frosted Pop Tart. I then picked myself off the floor, dusted myself off and went to the fridge for a celebratory glass of milk, celebrating my win over the evil unfrosted Pop Tart that tried to kill me. I burned the rest of the unfrosted Pop Tarts in a large bonfire shortly thereafter, so that no one else may suffer the cruel fate that almost became of me.