"Bumpy M&M"

On the bowl before me sit five M&M's. Three of them are chocolate only--which I don't like. The two others are peanut filled, one orange and one blue. I anticipate leading their smooth bodies on a brief tour of my mouth, then prodding them gently to the premolars where with a mercifully quick crack of their shiny surface their true nature will be revealed.

I reach for the blue one first. A welcomed cool sweetness, followed by slight disappointment when the tongue discovers no correlation between color and taste. Then the teeth take charge: A climax of sensation as brittle shell, smooth milk chocolate and earthy peanut explode on the tastebuds, igniting a lusty rush of enzymes and a dance of rapid chewing that sends the psyche to futures past... sadly culminating in a premature swallow.

On to the orange one. Reaching out I notice something odd about this one. It is oblong and bumpy. Its pale, white 'm' sitting crooked as if sliding off a camel's back. I figure there must be two peanuts inside. But being in a contemplative mood I wonder again why the shape is so odd, almost like a chrysalis. I imagine a small body, its outline distorted by the smooth chocolate. An accident at the factory, unlikely, but always possible given the ubiquity of small creatures. Or maybe a machine part, a piece of rubber from a frayed belt, or an earplug lost by one of the workers...

I leave behind this bumpy orange M&M.
Go ahead, it's yours. Isn't it great how they're not all the same?