Grass Valley, CA — A creeping and gnawing feeling that something isn’t right continued its steady march for the 4th consecutive year as area woman Margaret Crowley failed to find enlightenment after purchasing the amazing and revolutionary Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. The popular consumer home cleaning product, which promises to “look like a sponge, yet clean like magic,” didn’t stem Ms. Crowley’s nagging feeling that she is slipping into an existential crisis.
“I thought buying the Magic Eraser would help me out,” said a concerned Ms. Crowley speaking on the porch of her Rhode Island Street home in Grass Valley, CA. “I mean, it promised so much like cleaning with regular water and such. In the commercials I say, it removed permanent marker stains from the walls. I was hoping it would remove some of my stains too. And it kinda did, but it took a lot more work than they showed on TV.”
Upon completing the statement, Ms. Crowley was struck, as she is most days, with a sudden, unbearable realization that she has wasted her life with mediocre cleaning products. And despite her continuing high hopes, she has failed to find purpose and meaning in her life via consumer goods.
“Ever since my divorce four years ago,” continued Ms. Crowley, “I’ve meant to keep this place a little cleaner for people that might stop by. And I thought ‘the Magic Eraser has so much cleaning power.’ It turns out, even after I bought the mega-pack at Costco, the cabinets still look dirty, and I still am questioning my existence.”
Not everyone was as depressed as Ms. Crowley. Justin Christian of Cedar Ridge was more pragmatic about the lack of enlightenment, saying people should set their expectations accordingly.
“Look,” said a serious Mr. Christian out in front of the Grass Valley downtown Safeway. “The Magic Eraser promises all kinds of things. Great things. I mean, look at the television commercials. I’m sure you will understand how excited I was to get my hands on one of these babies,” he continued making scrubbing motions with this right hand. “When the Magic Eraser is done, it disappears. You don’t even have to throw it out. That’s what I call magic. But then again, it did make me feel somewhat sad when it was gone. It’s just like my hopes and dreams vanished as well. I was left standing there asking, ‘why am I here?'”
According to Bethany Millbright, Director of Communications for Procter & Gamble, the makers of the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, the purpose of the popular sponge is to make household cleaning easier, not provide spiritual insight or enlightenment.
“We are delighted that our customers are finding that the Magic Eraser is a powerful cleaning tool in their home arsenal,” said Ms. Millbright reading from a prepared statement. “However, we would like to make it clear that although our Mr. Clean products can substantially free up leisure time, they are in no way linked to spiritual insights, inner peace, or any other existential issues one might be facing.”
As for Ms. Crowley, her recent revelation might have provided her with some insight.
“Dust in the wind,” said Ms. Crowley, her voice muted as the TV blared. “That’s all our various pitiful, and deluded human endeavors ever amount to in the end. My job, my marriage, dust, and dirt. All dust all dirt. And all the Magic Erasers in the world can’t erase that.”