Lettuce the Menace

While wondering what to post today, I came up with a few really bad ideas... a comparison of Battlestar Galactica (1978) with Battlestar Galactica (2003), an analysis of my recent training, and an essay on the ins and outs of successful relationships were just a few of the imaginative embryos I mentally aborted. Then, during an otherwise uneventful lunch, and I realized that it is time for me to warn you about your impending doom.

Friends, I'm here today to tell you about a common threat. It's trouble, with a capital T, and that rhymes with L, and that stands for Lettuce.

Anyone can be affected, at any time, in any sandwich. No salad is safe.

I've always been apathetic to lettuce. It just sat idly on my burgers, making a mess when it fell out in shreds. Over time I grew to hate the lettuce, that lazy vegetable that dared compete with lunchmeat and cheese for my favor. That's when I started looking into the conspiracy theories... and then I found the Truth.

Most people don't want to listen to my warning. Maybe they fear the truth, maybe they won't admit that they've allowed something so insidious into their homes.

Just ask yourself, though: What does lettuce even do? You might as well eat solid water. It's no more useful than the parsley some French guy decided would pretty-up a dish of frogs' legs.

Lettuce is the umbrella in your Baybreeze, the rear-spoiler on your Honda Accord. Lettuce is as vestigial as your tailbone, as necessary as your appendix.

Like your appendix, it's lying in wait, a trap ready to be sprung. Instead of tissue inflammation, though, the lettuce is planning something much worse...

Imagine, if you will, a world where mankind is not the dominant species, but is kept alive only to serve their new masters, lettuce. Sound eerily familiar? It has already been predicted, in a "movie" starring an "actor" that some suspect is actually a vegetable infiltrator.

Some of you may be thinking "oh, Don, don't be silly. Lettuce can't rebel, they don't have the cognitive capacity to organize! They're just not smart!" To you I say: shut up, losers. Don't be fooled by Keanu. They're not called heads of lettuce for nothing.

I, for one, will not sit idly by while humanity is overthrown by leafy greens. I'm boycotting Romaine. Never again shall Iceberg touch my bread.

No good American would eat lettuce, anyway, not firefighters or baseball players or astronauts. I'll tell you who would, though. Bad Americans. Vegans, and communists, and vampires. Hippie Romanians, basically. The horror...

Consider yourselves warned.