A while back, my cousins would sleep over for weeks during summer break. One of these days, when they were over, we'd been watching videos on my Xbox before turning in for the night. For some odd reason, my second-oldest cousin turned to me, holding an open deodorant stick, and said, "Dare you to take a bite of my deodorant."
At the time, I was ten, and I didn't want to seem like a chicken to my older cousin, so my dumbass snatched the deodorant out of his hands and bit off at least half of the stick in one chomp. I didn't think of the repercussions before biting into a literal poison stick; I was invigorated by my act, but that confidence quickly faded away when my cousin began to call me stupid and told me deodorant was poisonous. I'd heard instances of poisoning before, so I panicked, spat the glob onto the floor, and ran to the bathroom to wash my mouth.
But it gets better.
I had convinced myself I was going to die from poisoning. So, in the later hours of the night, I burst into my parent's room profusely sobbing, wailing about how I was going to die, scaring the shit out of them. Through tears, they learned about the deodorant ( my cousin didn't think to tell them; he just stood back and watched as I broke down ) and reassured me I'd be fine. I hadn't ingested any deodorant, so there would be no need to take action unless I had symptoms, which I didn't have.
After that, they sent me back to my room. My cousin laughed at me as I tried to convince him that my reaction was reasonable, giving up because, in the end, I was just being dramatic. 330Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSqiGK20xTI
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