November 26th.

2018.

I was 41 years old relaxing on the couch sitting next to my Wife. We were watching a Hallmark Christmas movie. A commercial break begins and I see the same damn Sprite Cranberry Lebron James advertisement.

“Want a sprite cranberry?” It says.

Those words I have heard been blared through my television speaker system countless dozens of times this last week.

Anyways, it gets fairly late, I decide to go to sleep. I go upstairs to brush my teeth; yet as I put the mouthwash in my mouth; it tastes less like a mint and more like a carbonated fruit flavour. I spit it out quickly after tasting it, it’s seemingly magenta coloured now.

“I just need to sleep” I think to myself.

I walk to my bed soon afterwards which my dog is asleep on. My wife comes to the bed to. My dog often wets the bed, he’s very old and has many gum infections and poor sense or sight and hearing. He often pisses whenever he is sleeping which is just expected as this point; my wife and I are both used to the smell.

When we woke up this morning however, the sheets and room didn’t smell like dog piss; it smelled of fruit and sugar. When the dog woke up, underneath him was a wet spot that was seemingly dark pink.

This is not right.

I immediately got myself out of bed with my dog and drove off to the vets. The radio is playing a Los Angeles Lakers basketball game; the announcers keep talking about Lebron James. I change to another station, no avail. Seemingly all of the radio stations are the same damn Lakers game. A commercial break plays as it is now halftime.

“It’s the thirst, thirstiest time of the year!”

I veer off the road.

This ducking advertisement has been terrorising me.

“You wanna sprite cranberry?” Lebron James says.

I turn off the radio, go back onto the road and drive to the vets where all the employees are drinking Sprite Cranberries. I get the hell out of there as soon as I fill out the paperwork and drop off my dog. I drive home trying to keep myself sane.

As I walk through the front door, I see my wife screaming in sheer horror in the kitchen. I run over to her asking what’s wrong and trying to comfort her. She points towards the refrigerator. I open it up.

All of our food and drinks have turned into Sprite Cranberries. A massive sense of horror rushes towards me. I need to vomit.

I run to the toilet to regurgitate out of sheer disgust and horror. I pull up the toilet lid-


It’s not water in the toilet.

It’s Sprite Cranberry.


While in the bathroom in a sense of confusion and chaos, all of the cell phones, computers and televisions in the house turn on to the Los Angeles Lakers basketball game that Lebron James is playing in. There is a commercial playing.

My wife begins to bawl in the kitchen. I’m scared shitless in the bathroom. Loud knocking ensues on our front door. Adrenaline rushes though me as I sprint downstairs to my shotgun cabinet.

The basement is flooded-

But not with water.

I wade through the carbonated, magenta, sugary, fruity liquid to my shotgun cabinet. I attempt to open up my shotgun cabinet with the normal passcode, 85. I try it, but is doesn’t work. I panic and keep trying 85 with no avail. That’s what I set my shotgun cabinet passcode to be, for sure!

My wife starts to scream in physical agony upstairs. I think to myself…

“L-Lebron James’s jersey number…23”

I try 23, it opens up. I got my shotgun and swam out upstairs. The door has been busted down. I saw my wife yelling for help being pinned down by fucking Lebron James himself attempting to forcefully shove Sprite Cranberry down her throat.

I aim.

I shoot.

Sprite Cranberry gushes all over from Lebron James’ body onto me, my wife, the walls, the cabinets, and the ceiling. All of a sudden the televisions, phones and computers shut off, shut off, no longer playing the Lakers basketball game. All the food and drink in the refrigerator turn back to normal. The vet calls telling me that my dog is perfectly healthy.

Never will I forget the day that I did not want a Sprite Cranberry.