in the interest of public good, a scenario

Let's just say, only hypothetically speaking of course, you were hungry for breakfast this morning but didn't have any breakfast-y food.

And let's just say that when you opened the refrigerator and noticed that there were still eight or so chocolate-y birthday cupcakes left over from the weekend you decided that two of them would make a perfectly appropriate in-the-car-on-the-way-to-work meal.

And let's just assume, while we're still keeping it hypothetical over here, that while you're eating those two cupcakes as you’re traveling westward at upwards near 80 miles an hour on an anonymous interstate highway you happen to get black cupcake-y bits lodged firmly between your teeth and smooshed snugly in the nether regions of your pants.

(Now, mind you, this particular event would never ever happen to yours truly, seeing as I'm so incredibly health conscious and would never ever consider eating two cupcakes for breakfast or drinking a Stake and Shake milkshake for dinner, but in the interest of the common good I can travel to imagination land just this once.)

So, I’d imagine you're probably sitting there, black-toothed and chocolate-y crotched, and wondering what you should do, right?

Well, here’s what I wouldn’t recommend.

Facing the absence of dental floss, you probably shouldn’t decide to use a stray paper clip found in your purse to pick your teeth, because you just might hit a giant pothole, gouge your gums, and then promptly begin to bleed.

You also should most likely refrain from pouring water from a forgotten, half-drunk water bottle in your nether region to try and get the smooshed chocolate-y bits rinsed out, leaving your crotch cold and wet and unlikely to dry before arriving to work.

And when you do arrive to work, gums black and bleeding and crotch chocolate-y and wet, and someone asks, “What on Earth happened?,” you should probably just fess up, because a sarcastic response along the lines of, “Well, clearly I need to lay off the Skoal and see someone about my incontinence problem,” will most likely be greeted with only a blank stare instead of polite laugher, leaving both of you feeling rather uncomfortable and unable to maintain eye contact.

Furthermore, your co-worker will think you wee yourself, which is really not a nice thing to have someone think about you.

(Again, this would never ever happen to me. I’m far too well-adjusted to find myself in such a state. But you know me. I have quite the imagination, and I do so like to be helpful.)