Suspiciously Addictive Nacho Cheese Chips Have a Secret Ingredient . . . Heroin!

Frank and Ada Gross never believed that their angelic 8 year old son, Eric would ever fall prey to the dark grasp of addiction. However 576 family sized packages of Nacho Cheese Boritos later, it had became evident that their son had developed a nacho cheese dependency for the popular chips.

"It seemed like we never saw him without one of those giant red bags." Ada explains, "He ate them morning, noon, and night. My walls were constantly covered in orange fingerprints and he ruined three couches by wiping his hands on the cushions."

Frank and Ada first became suspicious of the tasty chips when they found large, hidden stockpiles of Nacho Cheese Boritos throughout their home. Eric had begun covertly hoarding the chips to ensure he always had an available "stash."

As Ada recalls, "I once found a family-size bag of Boritos taped under the lid of the toilet tank. Then another was stuffed into the heating duct. I found that one last winter when our house started to stink of burned cheese. He hid bags everywhere: at the bottom of the dog food bag, in flour jars, in the legs of his Sunday slacks, in a hollowed out radio, inside a teddy bear, and he even cut a hole into his mattress. He went crazy destroying things to make hiding places for those damn chips."

As Frank would soon discover, those "damn chips" where not just tasty, but genuinely addictive. After two years of constant Nacho Cheese Boritos consumption, Eric Gross' face and teeth have become permanently stained orange with nacho cheesy goodness.

After attempts to remove the facial stain with steam cleaners, pressure washers, Palmolive, bleach, Ajax, steel wool, Oxi Clean, baking soda, and three walks through The Softy Suds Car Wash failed, Frank finally turned to family friend and chemist, Hudson Ernest. Frank's hope was that Hudson would be able to uncover the chemical makeup of the orange pigment in order to design an effective cleaning agent.

What Hudson discovered was nothing short of shocking. He found that an unlisted ingredient in the cheesy chips is diacetylmorphine diamorphine, known more commonly on the streets as heroin. The heroin is added to the nacho cheese chips in small enough amounts as to be undetected during the legendarily stringent FDA inspections, but potent enough to ensure the repulsively ravenous consumption demonstrated by little Eric Gross.

A close examination of the words "Nacho Cheese Boritos" also reveals a disturbing case of subliminal advertising designed to guarantee their selection from grocery store shelves.

Consumers are unwittingly being hypnotized by the insidious anagram "nacho cheese boritos = choose 2 eat heroin."

As physician of neuroscience, Dr. Petra Krycek explains, "It is simply the nature of our logical cerebral cortex to seek out patterns and reorder to find further order. The makers of Nacho Cheese Boritos are clearly exploiting this natural obsessive compulsive proclivity."

The combination of the heroin additive and the hypnotic advertising have combined to create dual vector addictive ploy to bolster sales and produce legions of 'NCB junkies.'

The makers of Nacho Cheese Boritos declined to comment on Hudson Ernest's chemical analysis or Eric's obvious addiction.

To date, Frank and Ada have been unable to remove the nacho stain marring their young son's face and teeth, but are optimistic about a new concoction of borax, lye, ammonia, lamb intestine, and eye of newt, a recipe they received from new age healer, Sunbeam Epoxy Starlight.

All this Librarian can say is . . . Choose 2 Read Library Conspiracies.

--Katherine O'Brien-Smith