Abbey Crunch, Abbey Crunch *does a little dance*Abstinence, abstinence... not a fuckin' chance.
Shall I compare thee to a chocolate hobnob? Thou art less chocolatey and have less crunch. Rough oats do thrill the taste buds of your gob, And golden crispness is divine to munch. Sometimes too crisp the rival biscuits' break, And falls apart when dunked in steaming tea; And even jaffa cakes sometimes cannot make The need for biscuits vanish within me. But thy eternal oatiness shall not fade Nor lose the rich chocolate crust thou ow'st; Nor shall death drag thou wand'rest in his shade' When in sun kissed fields of wind blown stalks oats grow'st, So long as men can bake at McVitie, So long live hobnobs and all that's chocolatey.