Ever since he was younger, Fanboy had thoroughly enjoyed mayonnaise. He wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the rich texture of the goop as he poured jarfuls down his throat, or maybe it was its cool temperature that gave chills down his spine as drops slowly slid down the inside of his throat. Whatever it was, he had an addiction to it. He'd sneak jars of mayonnaise to school, and if they couldn't fit, he'd take massive spoonfuls of it and bury it deep inside his underwear pocket to save for later. During class, he'd slide his finger deep down inside the pocket, and swirl it around inside the mess, and he'd scoop out a large chunk of mayonnaise and shove it in his mouth. This had caused for multiple messes around him and a few stares, but he didn't care. His love for mayonnaise remained unbroken.
You may be wondering what this information has to do with a story, and how this even leads into a story. The answer is, it doesn't. This was all. Fanboy enjoyed mayonnaise, and that was the end of the story. There was no need for the author to create a long thriller about murders or worms or whatever other fanfiction is out there, because the true beauty in FBACC is Fanboy's undying love for mayonnaise. No horror story or love story can ever compete with the connection Fanboy and mayonnaise have. Its sheer power is too strong and too beautiful to be beat. The moral of the story is that Fanboy enjoys the Mayo, and that, my friends, is it.
