The Haribo Hypothesis

My parents are a slight bit crazy, but I love them. Yesterday we gathered as a family to read the downright poetic reviews of sugar-free gummy bears on Amazon (Click here for the link). I was impressed by the language used to describe, well, lets just say, er, harrowing bouts of colossal diarrhea. We laughed for hours. I was amused, and slightly horrified. I literally laughed until I cried. Fast forward to that night. I came home from a date to find this in my kitchen:

 An innocent looking bowl of gummy bears. Braiden, Jake, and I just stared at each other in horror. Gummy bears are scarier than Yzma around here. This morning, my parents woke us up for church and found us all staring at the bowl, not even daring to touch the little bears. She just started laughing. Cruel and unusual. We all ask the same question. Are these bears "fully weaponized?" Or a tasty snack? She won't crack. My parents think it is hilarious. They say it's a social experiment. Will someone get curious enough to risk their sphincter? Or their friends?

 Trey has taken it upon himself to find out. Always the scientist. I feel a little bit like I'm living in a real life episode of The Big Bang Theory.

He even resorted to trickery. You might be shocked to find no one was fooled. But the question still lingers: If I ate a normal serving size (all of them), would my insides want to be on my outsides?