Not cannibalism

The M and M bashed down the door, and screamed at the round shadow across the floor. 'Where is my wife you son of a bitch?' He stomped his foot and scratched an itch. The shadow did not speak, he did not move, he did not sneak. As the light from outside brushed across his face, M and M could see that he had a Skittle lace. But then he spotted the horrid sin: the skittle had chocolate upon his chin.

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