Stop living in a Faun-tasy, people

Logan Flake, Satire Editor

It was a typical Friday night when I decided that I wanted some snacks to fuel up for another night of getting my soul destroyed in NHL 17. Feeling frisky, I put on my heelys and freestyled all the way to Target. Once there, I had a decision to make. What exactly was it that I wanted to buy? I knew that whatever it was, it would have to taste good overlaid with the salty tears that I would be sure to cry after racking up loss after loss on PS4.
It was after only a few seconds that I saw it. Sitting there in the “summer clearance” section was a beautiful, radiating-orange 2-liter of a drink I hadn’t had in awhile. As soon as I locked eyes on that beauty, I knew it was meant for me. I snagged it up and made headway to the frozen foods section to get some pizza rolls to create a food match made in heaven.
After I’d pin-pointed my preferred pizza roll flavor (cheesy taco for life) I started going towards the checkout. I was too lazy to scan the two items I had on my own at the self-service checkout, so I went to one of the other open lanes to let someone else do that for me. I now wish that I had never made that decision.
Standing behind the counter was the man that provided me with the traumatic experience that lead to this being written. Trying to be friendly, he attempted to spark up a conversation about my drink selection. That’s when he said the fateful words “So, you’re a Fanta guy, eh?” There was nothing wrong with the intent of the sentence, nor with the fact that this guy was most certainly Canadian (or trying hard to sound like it,) but it was his pronunciation that lead to me dropping both of my items and heelying out of the joint faster than Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt’s love child. This man said “fan-ta” in favor of the correct pronunciation of “faun-ta.”
It was simply too much for me to handle. Once I got back to my house, I ripped the burning-hot heely wheels from my shoes and ran to my room to google “how to erase a memory from my mind forever.” Needless to say, there were no feasible solutions.
I’m sure I’ll get some flack for this, but I’m willing to take heat for preaching the truth. Pronouncing Fanta “fan-ta” is simply wrong.
All I have to do to prove my point is to point you in the direction of one piece of evidence (which happens to be the only piece of evidence that I will accept as cannon regarding this issue.) Back in 2007, they made this rather bizarre commercial for Fanta which featured presumably-Spanish women deemed the “Fantanas.” In the strange piece of advertisement (which I will admit is kind of scandalous,) the Fantanas dance to a groovy rhythm and repeat the line “wanna Fanta, don’t you wanna wanna Fanta?” The Fantanas pronounced it “faun-ta” to make the line rhyme properly. I saw that commercial as a kid at some point and have been pronouncing it “faun-ta” just like the Fantanas did ever since.
Boom, checkmate. It’s pronounced “faun-ta,” and I won’t welcome opposing opinions. I don’t care how you think it’s pronounced. I don’t care how the rest of the nation thinks it’s pronounced. I don’t even care how the Fanta brand itself think’s it’s pronounced. The Fantanas will always be right in my heart, and that’s all that matters.