That Bloody Kellogg’s Advert.

Kellogg’s Special K ..
Watch the ad…

It’s late afternoon, we pan across a sunny scene of open countryside. An honest, hard-working beekeeper, white-suited, stands at the side of a field of oats sliding panes of honey from some hives.

But what’s this? Instead of a load of bees, this sheet has been cut out and cunningly fashioned into a cereal-box holder. This clearly took hours of sawing, nailing, cutting, sticking and the like. An improbable find.
At this point, two questions must be asked – what is this beekeeper (disguised in a net veil) doing out in the oats at dusk, sneaking out the Special K? And what is this box of cereal doing in the corner of a field, inside a beehive, anyway? The plot thickens.

The music swells, cereal flies through the air with Bacchinalean abandon, honey is dribbled. The tension is thrust up into the higher reaches. Who is this person? Is she, perhaps, some poor farm-girl, abused and thrust into a cruel life where the only way she can eat is to scrape together a few coppers, walk 3 miles to Londis then hide her dry and loveless food that she might live to endure another day of her lecherous uncle’s abuse? Or is it a man, perhaps a simple farm-hand, who fell amid the oats and hives, gave crunchy birth to a new cereal and, horrified at his creation, hid it away, fearful that his new product might be unleashed on an unready world?

Not so, dear readers. The hood is removed, the jacket is unzipped, the game is up. Oh. It’s only that bloody bird off the other adverts. The one with not much in her wardrobe but a full chest of drawers, know what I mean?

Then what’s she doing in a field with all cereal? We know from the other ads that she lives in a bright white, presumably metropolitan apartment, with any number of smiling children and a tanned Italian with a 5 o’-clock shadow. The answer is simple – SHE’S A BLOODY THIEF. Like some warped result of Gary Lineker and Goldilocks’ illegal bacon frottage, she has taken from these humble people, these good people. She is the sort of despicable scum that is dragging this country into the dirt – and she’s right there on the telly, in an advert, where she can influence OUR BLOODY KIDS. She leans on these poor farmers’ tables, she leans on their trees, she eats their oats, and then she has the audacity – THE AUDACITY – to expect us to let her off because of her admittedly tasty arse.

Oh, alright then.

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Tags: beekeeper, constable, kellogg's, special K

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