formula_409_tale paste! The area on the counter that just got sprayed with all purpose cleaner notices that things will become bright again and refreshingly disinfected. “Ah, that bacon grease is finally gone,” says square inch #855. “Phew, you got that right,” adds square inch #859. 010806 ... Karp Suddenly, sirens are heard, "RED ALERT...RED ALERT" says the computerized voice. Square Inch #400 begins to scream in terror, "Help me! my freshness is waivering, I-I...I'm being...INFECTED, AHHHHHHHH-" The screams are somehow muffled...and then silenced. Looks like the bacteria claimed another square inch. But where is 409? 010806 ... paste! Formula 409, off in the distance, is busy flirting with Mrs. Windex (married to Sir Clorox). meanwhile, "aaaaaah, i'm disgusting," scream square inch #398 through #403, in unison. vindictive plagues of escherichia coli and staphylococcus aureus spread like a desert mountain wildfire. elsewhere, "this is amazing!" cries square inch #855. "i know, isn't it? we are so clean! although we might have to worry about 409 missing square inch #864. i see a nasty colony of streptococcus emerging from nowhere. probably from a sneeze or something." 010806 what's it to you? who go blather from