The Devil Has My Tongue

Mandy has just got back from a two week holiday to Arizona. She bought the office back some american sweets: Hershey's milk chococlate bars and Reese's milk chocolate peanut butter cups.

I don't like peanut butter.

My boss Graeme is very religious. He is an elder, and very active member, of a Gospel church in Wallingford. He takes his religion seriously, and I therefore wouldn't dream of sending him the link for pinstruck.com - where you can send someone you love a voodoo curse - for example. I have to be careful what I say around Graeme.

It was therefore a mistake when I responded to Graeme's question "would you like a peanut butter cup?" with:

"Urgh! No thanks... peanut butter is the devil's work!"

Whilst most people might retort with a smile and a throw-away "I feel the same about Marmite" comment, Graeme immediately countered with a demanding "why do you say that?"

I would like to have said "it's because it looks like demon poo, smells like demon poo and tastes like demon poo!", but having been put on the spot - and desperate to avoid any sort of religious discussion about fiery depths of Swindon and its denizens - I lamely said:

"Eating too much peanut butter can give you a heart attack..."