Bring in the Evidence

This morning I found an evidence bag in the refrigerator (I'm not even kidding, the first shelf in front of my face: evidence bag).  It had come from a cold case, and considering I had never interacted with an evidence bag before in my life, I had some difficultly getting it open.  It was sealed, and not with tape, but with some complicated sealing process.  So I ended up taking a knife to it.  The odors from the contents of the bag wafted out of the plastic, filling up the house with the smell.  My mom would probably kill me and put me in a body bag for doing this, but I didn't care.  I was seized by a hunger I only ever felt in the mornings, a savage hunger to break my fast from over eight hours of sleeping.  So I slapped the evidence on a plate and shoved it into the microwave, listening to the pop and bubble as the microwave warmed it from the inside out.  Steam lifted from the surface when I pulled it out of the microwave as I cut into it.  Juices ran down my chin, and I stuck out my tongue to lick the juices off my face.  So delicious as I savored the cornucopia of flavors bursting on my taste buds, I realized that I would never be able to eat anything else ever again.

Mmm...pizza.

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Well, I was going to talk about how I can't possibly talk about the Academy Awards because I haven't seen the majority of the movies that have been nominated, but when I opened the fridge and saw that evidence bag, it was obvious that I needed to write about that.  I mean, which would you rather hear?

"This morning I found an evidence bag in the refrigerator"

OR

"So I've only seen maybe three movies that have been nominated for Oscars.  I mean, that's counting animated film and screenplay and all that...I've only seen one Best Picture nominee."

Exactly what I thought.  Glad I could oblige.

"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact."

- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle