It was another Payday and I was tired of Mr. Goodbar.  I saw Miss Hershey standing behind the Powerhouse on the corner of Clark and Fifth Avenue when I whipped out my Whopper and whispered, "Hey Sweetheart, how'd you like to Crunch on my Big Hunk for a Million Dollar Bar?"  Well, she immediately went down on my Tootsie Roll, and it was like Pure Almond Joy!  I couldn't help but grab her delicious Mounds because it was easy to see that this little Twix had the Red Hots.  It was all I could do to hold the Snicker and Krackle as my Butterfinger went up her tight little Kit Kat and she started to scream "Oh Henry, Oh Henry!"  Soon she was fondling my Peter Pan and ZagNut and I knew it wouldn't be long before I blew my Milk Duds clear to Mars and gave her a taste of the old Milky Way.  She asked me if I was into M&M, but I said, "Hey Chicklet, no kinky stuff."  I said "Look you little Reese's Pieces, don't be a Zero, be a Lifesaver.  Why don't you take my Whatchamacallit and slip it up your Bit 'O' Honey?" (What a piece of Juicy Fruit she was, too!)  She screamed, "Oh Crackerjack, you're better than the Three Musketeers!" as I rammed my Ding Dong up her Rocky Road and into her Peanut Butter Cup.  Well, I was giving it to her Good 'N' Plenty, when all the sudden . . . my Starburst!  Yeah, and as luck would have it, she started to grow Chunky and complained of a Wrigley in her stomach.  Sure enough, nine months later, out popped . . . Baby Ruth