Yes you may think I'm at the butt end of a telephone game experiment and purple monkey dishwasher has already been done. You wouldn't think that the 3 words: Mars, Cheese, and Castle could go together.
When I think Mars, I tend to think of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Marvin the Martian, or a delectable nougaty chocolate confection suitable for frying by Scots.
When I think of Cheese, I tend to think of pizza, sense of humor, and boxes of Cheez-its (which I think used to be called Cheez Nips when I was growing up, but maybe someone complained about racial intonations).
When I think of Castles, I tend to think of chess, Harold and Kumar, and Nathan Fillion.
What I don't do is think of the three words together, yet driving at a snail's pace o'er the construction-laden interstates approaching Milwaukee, Wisconsin yesterday, I saw what I saw (and my friend Steve can back me up) and that was a larger than life sign which read MARS CHEESE CASTLE.
Now, of course, I was intrigued, but not enough to stop the car from our 5mph pace and find an exit ramp... perhaps I was thinking of the unlimited possibilities of the concept of a Mars Cheese Castle with Marvin the Martian as sole proprietor echoing the best lines of the Monty Python Cheese Shop sketch when I got pulled over in Waterford, Wisconsin at 1am for speeding.
I got caught doing 20mph over the speed while travelling at 45mph... you do the math folks. That means the speed limit was 25mph. I was passed by a turtle and a snail out for a late night stroll when I got back on the road again.
The cop was actually very nice. He gave me a warning but told me my Windstar's license plate had come back with a citation on a Crown Victoria. I thought I had the plates new when I first leased a van nine years ago. If I had to guess however, I'd like to think the previous owner of my plates got caught storming the Mars Cheese Castle which was ably-protected by the Swiss Guard.
I would also like to think that if one got caught by the guards, they would throw you in the Mars Cheese Castle dungeon with limburger carpets. The only way you could get out was to eat the only thing that wasn't made of cheese - headcheese.