Why Our Food is Made in a Facility that also Processes Soy and Nuts
Because We Love It
We get it. People have food allergies, and they can be life-threatening. Even the faint, salty grease smear left behind by a single peanut on one of our conveyor belts could send a five-year old to the hospital with a windpipe tighter than a straw.
So it’s fair to ask, why are all of our non-soy and non-nut products processed in a facility that also processes soy and nuts?
Because we fucking get off on it, that’s why.
That’s right, we fucking love that shit. Think about it: this company makes plain chocolate bars. There’s no reason to process soy and nuts in our factory at all. And why the fuck would peanuts even go on the same equipment as a plain chocolate bar anyway? What, we’re going to just clean that shit off and start making peanut brittle every other day? What kind of shit-for-brains sense does that make?
No, we do it because it makes us all hard and/or wet as fuck thinking about how you’ll never know if you’re getting a chocolate bar that was extruded from the same tube thingy we use to bottle soy oil last week. And guess what? We don’t even sell soy oil. We dump every shipment straight in the goddamn Ohio River.
Oh my fucking God, I am having a waking wet dream just thinking about the massive histamine response triggered by a single gram of peanut dust in a man’s throat.
Wasn’t it obvious what we’ve been doing? Why the fuck would the same machine be able to handle chocolate and soy oil, anyway? They ways we process them have no mother-fucking similarity whatsoever.
It isn’t easy, let me tell you. The whole facility has to shut down for like six fucking days every time we switch it up. We have to move a ton of machinery, all while making sure none of it gets cleaned. Our hands get totally covered in soy oil, and that shit does not come off easy. We’re losing money on every bar of chocolate sold because of this shit.
But oh man, is it ever fucking worth it.
Every morning, we all break the speed limit getting to work because we know we get to spend all day holding the power of life and death over thousands of people who eat our food without noticing the 6-point font warning printed on the inside of our candy bar wrappers.
And you know what the best part is? Those little words make the whole thing fucking legal. What would it be like if you could just murder a bunch of people and it was fucking legal?
We know what that’s like. We know it deep in our cashew-dusted souls.
We don’t process milk though; it makes us a little gassy.