The grandfather and grandmother and the bag of Doritos can now see the land of Doritos in the near distance, beautiful and arid. Everywhere they look are bags of Doritos, working industriously.
Suddenly their path is blocked by the two piles of mush.
"What the?" says the grandfather who loves Doritos. Suddenly the piles of mush are joined by Grammy-the woman who died in a bush, neglected by her grandson Timmy, having been hit by a truck.
Then Grammy and the piles of mush are joined by the orange violated by the Slap-of-Wack bar.
Then Grammy and the piles of mush and the orange are joined by Jim the penisless man, who is still limping a little, and occasionally gaping down incredulously into his pants.
"Get out of our way," says the bag of Doritos.
"We're trying to get home, to our sacred land of Doritos," says the grandmother who loves Doritos.
Just then the man briefly involved with the gigantic Ding Dong comes running up and joins Grammy, the mush piles, the orange, and Jim the penisless man.
"Sorry I'm late," he says.
"Actually?" says the orange, with a hint of bravado. "You're right on time."
The grandfather, the grandmother, and the bag of Doritos see that they are badly outnumbered.
Luckily, at that moment they are joined by the giant DingDong, the Slap-of-Wack bar, Timmy, grandson of Grammy (even now eating from a container of MacAttack Mac & Cheese), and Kevin, the man who tricked Jim out of his penis.
"We don't get it," says the grandmother who loves Doritos. "What's your problem?"
"You took our dignity," says the orange.
"You took my fianc'ee," says the man briefly involved with the Ding-Dong.
"You took my penis," says Jim.
"You split my head in half, then reduced both halves to piles of mush, completely betraying the grandchild/grandparent relationship," says one pile of mush.
"Oh for crying out loud," says the grandmother who loves Doritos. "Don't you people believe in the concept of 'fun'?"
"In the concept of 'funny'?" says the bag of Doritos.
"We just want to express ourselves the way we want to express ourselves," says the giant Ding-Dong. "We find that fun."
"Well, we don't find it fun," says Jim the penisless man.
"Well, we do find it fun," says Kevin, the man who tricked Jim out of his penis.
"Looks like we'll have to agree to disagree on this," says the Ding-Dong.
"No," Grammy says. "This has gone on long enough."
The orange, the man briefly involved with the Ding-Dong, Jim the penisless man, Grammy, and the piles of mush, frustrated beyond reason by years of repetitively enduring the same physical/psychological humiliations in replay after replay of their respective vignettes, attack.
It is a bitter fight, which we know because out of a big cloud of dust fly a number of limbs, a bottle cap, bits of delicious flaky chocolate, and part of an orange peel.
When the dust settles, we see that the entire Ding-Dong/ Doritos/Timmy/grandparents-who-love-Doritos/Kevin/Slap-ofWack coalition is dead, except for the Slap-of-Wack, who is almost dead.
"Please, mercy," the Slap-of-Wack says.
"When did you ever show us any mercy?" says Jim the penisless man, and finishes off the Slap-of-Wack with a brutal karate chop.
The orange, insane with pent-up rage, falls upon the Slapof-Wack and tears it asunder with its tiny teeth until the other members of the coalition pull him off.
The members of the orange/Grammy/man-briefly involvedwith-a-Ding-Dong/piles-of-mush/penisless-man coalition drag the remains of the members of the Ding-Dong/Doritos/Timmy/ grandparents-who-love-Doritos/Kevin/Slap-of-Wack coalition outside, and bury them in a shallow mass grave.
Then they leave the area, a little sick at what they have done, especially the orange, who several times becomes so distraught it stops rolling altogether, and must be picked up and hurled down the path by Jim the penisless man, who, turns out, has a very good arm.