I just want to feel SOMETHING. Even if that something is the tingle of artificial life on my tongue.

I'm dead inside. Dead like two 6-packs of AAA batteries after an RC car bender. I've spun my last donut. Burned my last bit of rubber. Force-fed my last cloud of dust. It's over, man. There's nothing left for me.

Oh sure. These Duracells are rechargeable. They can be recharged hundreds of times, actually. But what's the point? The only thing that's real any more is the pain, anguish and bitter disappointment of an HPI Savage X sputtering out at the pinnacle of its world-record leap over a line of 1/18th school buses, end to end.

No. The most pleasure I can glean from my now useless existence is that I have the power to end it all. Ever put the end of a battery to your tongue? If you have, then you've felt the satisfying metallic zing of potential nothingness.

Now imagine a 12-count of 800 mAh making contact all at once. I am. And it's glorious. Sweet nothingness. Bliss. Sure, there's a chance that nothing will happen. Or nothing more than some singed taste buds. But while it may be a slow death, it's a start. And to every start, there must be an end.

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