"Well, it's not as good as cocaine, but I have it once a week anyway, sometimes twice a week. I'm having it right now in fact."
Charlie Sheen on the Spice
Spice, as it is known to most, makes up approximately 30% of every female body. (The remaining 70% is composed of varying amounts of sugar and everything nice.) Spice, or melange as it is also called for some reason, is produced on the desert planet of Iraq. Only one thing is for sure: Spice is pure evil.
Spice is also a packet of herbs sold at headshops or over the internet that mimic the effects of cannabis when smoked. Side effects are limited to death and coma. It contains synthetic urine, cocaine, cannaboids, DMT, mushrooms, Power Puff Girls, and animal feces.
Crap Made From Spice
Some fools believe spice to be a form of silk, as both are organic products created by worms that can be spun into fiber and made into clothes. Spice is a natural component of little girls (especially teenage girls and women). Spice is also used the manufacture of:
Control of the spice is the foundation of Walmart's space travel monopoly.
New research from the Redwood Toxicology Laboratory in Pennslyvania states that the legal drug spice is 2000 times more addictive than crack cocaine, 20368 times more addictive than marjiuana and 3 times more addictive than tobacco.
Spice For Personal Use
Spice may be eaten, drank, snorted, gargled, injected, shafted, basted, lathered, inhaled or smoked, but never huffed. Some believe that spice huffing may have induced God Emperor Leto II's transformation into a giant bastardized half-worm prescient hydrophobic eunuch. Whatever the case, too much of the freaking stuff makes your eyes turn blue. Pupils and all. Seriously.
Spice is 19 times as addictive as crack cocaine, 69 times as addictive as weed, and one tenth as addictive as alcohol. Have you ever seen a spice addict do the spice, then smoke crack, then smoke weed, then drink a lot of beer? It's like watching a demented clown being eaten alive by giant candy canes and peanut brittle while they churn windmills to make taffy. It's not a pretty sight.
Being deprived of spice, once addicted, is permanently fatal. Permanently.
Those Crazy Sandworms
Sandworms are fucking huge, and I'm not goddamn kidding when I say that. Seriously, these things can eat anything, even something as large as Rosie O' Donnel.
Adult sandworms are nearly impervious to everything, except, oddly enough, water, which causes them to melt into puddles of blue goo, and atomic bombs. Indigenous to Iraq, which orbits the star Betelgeuse, where they compete with Pacman for ghosts that wander outside their haunts on the Ethereal Plane. The sandworm's ectoplasmic castings are excreted deep under the sand, where it ferments. The gases caused by fermentation eventually asplode, flinging the pre-spice material to the surface like so much monkey poo. Exposure to sun, wind and wild, crazy fungi toughen the foul substance into sweet, sweet spice.
Vastly smaller quantities of the spice are produced by the spice glands of Spice Girls.
The worms that produce spice are as hospitable as a psychotic werewolf Scottsman on crack, thus extreme care must be excercised during its harvest. Recommended tools for harvesting spice include Transformers, Goa'uld motherships, Jabba's sail barge, Battlemechs, Zords or any other form of giant robot from Japan. Though dangerous, getting two sandworms to fight is said to be nearly as entertaining as watching the coup of third-world country's despotic ruler. Use of shields in worm territory is roughly as stupid as bathing in worchestershire sauce before kicking a starving Grue.
The best spice harvesters are the natives of the planet Iraq's desert, the Fremasons.
As the plural of mouse is mice, logically it follows that the plural of spouse is spice