Like Halley's Comet, Only Cheesier...

I have to tell you about what is, perhaps, the most significant invention of the past twenty-five years.
I refer not to the internet, or the artificial heart, or the saline breast implant, but rather, of course, to the new Burger King Cheesy Tot.
Just when you think that nobody could possibly find a new way to combine cheese and potato, what happens? Some genius in the Burger King research lab figures out that if you inject what seems to be hot, gooey Velveeta into your run-of-the-mill tater tot, you end up with a little nugget of heaven.
You think I’m exaggerating.
I understand.
It’s because you’re cynical.
It’s because you secretly think there couldn’t possibly be, in the twenty-first century, an unplumbed potato/cheese combo, or that there isn’t really that much difference between injecting potato with cheese, and dipping potato in cheese, or drizzling potato with cheese.
But you would be mistaken.
Because injecting the cheese makes all the difference in the natural world, and that’s why I’m a mere writer, and you do whatever you happen to do, and neither of us is a cheese and potato genius slaving away in the Burger King lab, which I now think of in much the same way I used to think about NASA, before we all found out about NASA being a government-subsidized sex camp with adult diapers.
Ah, how to describe the cheesy tot? How to convey its particular ecstasy? It’s hot, crusty on the outside, mushy on the inside, except, just when you’re lulled into thinking that it’s a regular tater tot, WHAM! WHOOSH! ZOOM!
A gush of hot, fake cheese, far better than any legitimate cheese could ever hope to be, because, unlike the real thing, fake cheese is actually engineered for flavor.
And then, it passes. Which would be very sad, if they weren’t sold in sets of six, a perfect number.
And now, everyone, before rushing out to buy, remember, it takes two people to make a work of profound, selfless brilliance. The person who creates it, and the person who talks about it. So, text your friends. Call your relatives. Make amends with your past over the linoleum-topped tables of Burger King. Spare no expense. Take photographs, record diary entries. After all, it isn’t often in life we get to be part of an event of real historical importance.