Never Take Candy from Train Stations

Mother always said --- wait, no, that's not what she said. But regardless we should have been far more wary.

It's easy to blame Ethan, our unsuspecting Harvard sophomore we picked up in Padborg, Denmark, and journeyed with through Copenhagen. We had a few minutes before the train, and the store's assortment of multicolored, if predominantly black, candies beckoned him to the point of purchase.

"One of everything!" he said, and the next minute Hanna and I were shaking our heads, but complying. As the Amsterdam science center taught us 'the worst crimes are not those of disobedience, but obedience'.

We didn't get around to eating them until the following night, in the elder wonderland of Tivoli.

One of Everything

You'll note the disproportionate amount of black, and also that some of the black looks to be sugar coated. Now, neither Hanna nor I like licorice, but perhaps, we thought, it would be better with sugar.

Oh, cruel world, had we but known!

T'was not sugar, but salt.

Now, I am almost completely convinced that every time someone eats a piece of salty licorice a kitten gets run over by a car. That is how truly, horrifyingly, inexcusably awful this "CANDY" is. 

And for some inexplicable reason, we kept eating until it was gone. Like climbing a mountain. Made of burning sulfur. 

Never forget.