Zoodles are oodles of fun

Ms. McKee, just like her inferior news section, is nerdy

Michael Silicz, Staff

Guess what else a can of Alphagetti can spell out: N-E-R-D-S. Who else would eat Alphagetti when, on the same shelf at the local grocer, cans of delicious Zoodles can be found? Nerds, that’s who! Both pasta amateurs and aficionados agree: Zoodles are superior to Alphagetti in every measure possible.

Let’s skip the insults, and get straight to the facts. Facts, but the way, are quantitative, verifiable measurements recorded by precise scientific instruments. I feel it necessary to remind readers of this because “facts” are conspicuously missing from Ms. McKee’s poor diatribe of an argument.

F-A-C-T: when it comes to taste, Zoodles are better than Alphagetti.

Zoodles come smothered in a thick, rich and delicious tomato sauce that smells like a Tuscan vineyard in the autumn right before harvest. The actual Zoodle noodle is hearty, scrumptious and filling. Alphagetti, on the other hand, tastes like soggy noodles drenched in ketchup. But not just any ketchup, I’m talking “catsup”-style ketchup. You know, the type of cheap “ketchup” that lousy restaurants and public golf courses use as a substitute to real Heinz 57 Tomato Ketchup. That is exactly what Alphagetti tastes like.

F-A-C-T: Zoodles are oodles of fun!

Now, you don’t have to be one of the smart kids to figure this one out. It’s pretty obvious that Ms. McKee is what we cool kids in school would refer to as “a nerd.” I mean, she’s probably one of those kids that got excited when the teacher announced a surprise spelling test. She’d always have her hand up first to answer the teacher’s question. And she was definitely “that kid” who always complained to the teacher about not having enough homework. As you can see above, Ms. McKee also ate Alphagetti.

Meanwhile, there are the rest of us — also known as normal kids, or “normies” as Ms. McKee likes to call us. You know, the type of kids who just want to have fun? Anyone that would eat something because it’s educational is redonkulous. That’s right, redonkulous: substantially more absurd than ridiculous. The last thing normal kids want to do when they sit down and eat is have to face more stupid words, especially during lunch break at school. What would you rather do: use your spoon to spell out words or use your spoon to create a fucking half-kangaroo-half-lion monster bent on dominating the other animal figures in the pasta bowl? What about the badass combination of a giraffe with a monkey’s head? That’s the shit I’m talking about. Can Alphagetti solve the age-old question of who would win in a fight: an elephant or a hippo? No, Alphagetti can’t. Perhaps, Ms. McKee, you can try to spell out the awesome time I’m having with your boring letters? Probably not, though: there aren’t enough letters in a can of Alphagetti to capture the excitement that comes from a single bite of Zoodles.

And maybe I was raised a little different, but my mother never placed giraffes and elephants in awkward, sexually suggestive positions when she made me Zoodles. Then again, that’s not a fair comparison since my mother loved me, which Ms. Mckee cannot say about her mother. But don’t blame Ms. McKee’s mother for improperly raising her child, Ms. McKee is probably this way because she ate sand during grade school recess, possibly explaining her distorted sense of taste and thus love of Alphagetti.

And there you have it folks: Zoodles rule.

Michael Silicz earned his education from St. Paul’s High School and the University of Manitoba, not a can of Alphagetti.