Don’t panic. That’s what they want you to do. There’s miles of fluffy white stuff between you and freedom — so you have to keep your cool.
Don’t worry about how you got here. Does it really matter at this point? You’re locked in a giant facility producing 1000 marshmallows a minute. There’s plenty of time for placing blame once you get out.
Don’t try to escape immediately. Get a sense of your surroundings. Make some maps, gather your supplies. You’re in this for the long haul.
Don’t try to eat your way out. I know it’s tempting. You’ve seen the piles of bodies — honest people with families who thought they could just eat their way out. And you think, oh, I’m different. No, you’re not. Sure the first couple pounds are easy, fun even. But these white mountains are more filling than they let on. Swallow your pride, not 400 cubic feet of marshmallows.
Don’t call for help. You probably have a cell phone. Calling for help is going to be your first instinct. But trust me, resist that urge. Yeah, they’ll get you out. But you’ll never hear the end of it. “Marshmallow Dave” will be your new nickname for the end of time. It’s not worth it.
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