MANSCOUT COOKIES

So earlier today I was eating lunch with my friend Kaitlin in City Hall Park. We were just sitting on a bench, shooting the shit, eating panini (a side note: they're just grilled cheese sandwiches; stop besmirching the fine cuisine of Italy, New York delis). Then we are accosted by a rabid squirrel. It looked absolutely nothing like this:

It also wasn't really rabid. It just looked like it had been in New York too long - its tail fashioned by subway exhaust into a mohawk, its eyes bulgy from too many espressos. Some day a rain is going to come that will wash all the acorns off the streets . . . but I digress. The squirrel was to be but our first guest. There was also the crazy lady following the squirrel - but her dementia grants no amusement.
The story I'm really trying to tell - what I'm really trying to lay the ground for, here, in a way, a roundabout way, because this is a total shaggy dog - is the story of the Man Scout Cookie Man.
He is a most insistent fellow. And if you're lucky, you'll meet him some day. He'll be carrying a boom mic in his right hand (for shoving into your face) and wearing wraparound shades. In his left hand, he'll hold a ziploc bag of crumbled do-si-do Girl Scout® Cookies. They'll look like they've been left out in the sun too long. The bag will appear tampered-with, in the least. He'll ask you, as he asked us,
"Would you like to buy one of my cookies?"
"No thanks," you will sensibly say, in stereo.
"Why not?"
"Because they look gross."
"I haven't had my shots."
"Aww, come on," he will implore you. "They're delicious. Just try one."
"No way. They're not Thin Mints."
"Yeah, I would totally prostitute myself for Thin Mints."
"Okay," he'll relent, and then, retorting, "how much would you prostitute yourself for these cookies?"
"Dude, you miss my point. I would not prostitute myself for your busted-ass cookies. I would not even take them free-of-charge. Crazy-ass Man Scout Cookie Man. You're giving Girl Scouts a bad name."
"Alright, but just one final thing: if you were to run the Man Scouts, what would their motto be?"
The Man Scout Cookie Man just loves lateral thinking. You would do best to sink to his nonsense.
"I would say their motto would be 'first, do no harm,' much like the Hippocratic Oath."
At that, he shall probably leave. He has recorded your voices for some future posterity, you can be sure. Your celebrity in South Korea is assured. Your lunch is only somewhat ruined.

The following video in no way represents my encounter with the Man Scout Cookie Man. It's just another way of looking at a blackbird. But here you go. You've been forewarned.