the pillsbury doughboy is a famous trademark a trademark is a special ...

 

 

     Hello, it’s me, the Pillsbury Doughboy, master baker and criminal mastermind. Yeah, you heard right. I said criminal mastermind. No half-baked schemes from Pop n’ Fresh, here. Oh I know what you’re thinking, but you’re so cute with your little chef’s hat. Well stop thinking of me as warm and sweet. This spokes character is tired of being goody-goody. What could the little Doughboy do that’s so bad? Glad you ask.

     My job was to be a helper in the kitchen to half-wits who don’t know a thing about baking. One day I was showing Mrs. Brown how to make monkey bread with my lovin’ from the oven biscuits for her brood of imps. Basically I was doing all the kneading as sweat seeped from my hat, while she stared at me, telling me how she loved my blue eyes and commercials. Then her index finger went for my belly and I snapped.

     “Poke me and I poke your eye out,” I threatened holding a rolling pin.

     Well the Pillsbury Company weren’t too happy with me. They knew people would be horrified that a beloved “character” nearly attacked a woman. The incident was hush-hush. And I was allowed back into families’ homes. That’s when I realized I could rob these suckers’ blind. One day as I showed Mr. Green how to make pigs-in-the-blanket. I gingerly went upstairs and found jewelry. The family thought I was so cute when I had a string of Mrs. Green’s pearls wrapped around me. Then I told them to give me all their money. They just laughed. But that stopped once they heard the thunderous growl of my friend. The Jolly Green Giant. (We play pool every Friday night). Now let’s try this again give me all your money. People didn’t find me threatening, but a giant was a whole different matter.

     My next matter of business was to eliminate my competition, namely old woman Crocker. But I needed minions. Every criminal mastermind had one. I thought about the Gingerbread Man, but the Muffin Man told me he was loose cannon, with a gun. But I came into luck when I met with some disenchanted Keebler elves; they hadn’t had a raise in three years. So they became my minions. What did I do to Betty Crocker? Well my minions just shook her up a bit, to let her know who rules the baking industry. The Doughboy. And remember keep your index finger to yourself.

    

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