Blink 182 was over as a band. They'd hated

Blink 182 was over as a band. They'd hated each other ever since they'd hit pay dirt because every single one of them thought they were the secret genius behind the music but

in reality they were simply contributors to a bland melodic stew. To make matters worse, their band name now a grim reminder of this sudden downsizing of fans.

With no notes of reality to sing in harmony or play a kazoo. The stew of melody bubble and burst into strange strings that snapped, crackled and pop to the beat of a song from

rice crispies in a plastic bowl. Cereal experimental music surged into the backwater's of underground clubs. They danced to the beats of remixed Scooby Doo and Thunder Cats. PJs

were combined with peanut butter to make them smoother. Nobody knew of these musics; they were from eras long ago. But the cereal enthusiasts had a convention that would end all

doubts that cereal would one day be the new twinkie. Certainly they would run any one who stocked pop tarts on the shelf in the Cereal Aisle out of business. Can't they

settle their differences and make Pop-Tart cereal, or cereal-flavored Pop-Tarts? With the spike in popularity of bacon and buttered toast, the sugary breakfasts must unite. Donut

across Granola Girl's throat. "Anyone else?" cried Cap'n Crunch. Silently, the Cereal Killers filed out of the cupboard, not one of them daring to question their assignments.

Nothing could foil Cap'n Crunch's plans now... that is unless breakfast turns out to be a full English fry up, and that is exactly what happened. The cereals would have to wait.