by Pepper Rouille

North Media

April, 2068


The Two Eights of the Aestival Season has arrived and the North is currently experiencing its annual influx of travellers from the Western colonies.  While many of these travellers have crossed the Atlantic simply to boost their national CIS (Cultural Influence Status), a surprising amount has come for one specific and, quite frankly, peculiar experience: to taste mayonnaise.

A bit of background: In the Year of Our Avo 01💩 (2018), mayonnaise came under fire when it was suggested that the West’s millennial generation (the younger demographic of their time) had gone and kill the creamy condiment.  Not murder, as one might deduce from such a statement, but simply “killed off” within the zeitgeist of their time.  Records show that they were more into Sriracha and Szechuan sauce, preferring a bit of spice as opposed to whatever it was that passed as mayonnaise back then.

But the older generation was having none of it, and deemed anyone who didn’t eat mayonnaise a “bad daughter.”  Soon enough, the First Mad President established an incentive that saw every citizen receive a “good son” badge for enjoying his or her mother’s mayonnaise, which ultimately led to the Great Mayo Riots of the US (former Western colonies).

Mayonnaise was eventually banned altogether following arguments that it wasn’t “even American” to begin with.

Cut to the present, where deprived Western folk bravely take on sky and sea to travel to the North, pile onto hoverbusses, and visit the culinary culture spots where mayonnaise is served.

“I’ve been dreaming of this trip my whole life,” a young female says as she gulps down a spoonful of mayo, trying her best not to gag.  She tells me she goes by an alternative identity (she calls herself SpaceStarHermit) and that she’s documenting her first trip to “Mayo Country.”

“I really want to inspire my clan back home,” she proclaims before going all cross-eyed as she looks into her ever-recording contact lenses and says, “Knowing mayonnaise is knowing freedom.

However, it is true that not everyone shares StarSpaceHermit’s sentiments.  Many Western tourists have voiced their disappointment following a taste of the historical salad cream.

One man was so perplexed by the oral chemistry involved that he immediately washed the mayo down with a soda before yelling, “I’ve been penetrated by the Devil himself!”

An elderly woman, who only came along to appease her rebellious grandchildren, scoffed at one mayo vendor and said, “That is not  how my mother used to make it.”

The numbers are alarming.  Last year’s survey shows that, of the 13,500 tourists who used ‘Member Mayo Tours during their trip, a staggering 78% did not enjoy tasting the eggy emulsion.  And yet, many a Western tourist returns every year to hate the experience all over again.

“I think it reminds us of what we care about,” says one man who is currently on his fifth mayo tour.  “If I don’t have something to dislike, to hate…look, if I just liked everything, then what would I be?  In this life, you’ve got to hate a few things.  Now, I’m not saying I’m a hater, okay?  I just don’t like mayo, it’s weird.  But I’m not a hater.  I eat aioli back home, you know.”

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