Stop what you are doing. Just stop. Turn off the computer and proceed immediately into the kitchen and make this. Right now. Baring that, proceed to Jeff’s place. Break in if you have to (if you can get past the Cat Lady on the front porch who will leer at you, you should be able to get inside) and use all necessary force to pry these crunchy, salty, cinammoneous (?) caramel-ey sweet little things out of my gooey, sandy, coma-induced fingers.
I suppose I should back up.