Marry, Fuck, Kill:
Frankenberry, Booberry & Count Chocula
Well, I'm gonna say marry the count because counts have a lot of moola amirite? And you can't kill a vampire, even a homosexual, chocolate-loving one, cause they already dead. Hmm, guess you can't kill Booberry either then. But Boo looks kind of like an asshole (and stoned, thumbs up) and chicks dig that. The solution to this one is marry the count and have fabulous dinner parties with chocolate fountains, bone down in ghost town, then kill that fat fuschia turd of a Frankenberry because he's worthless.
Cap'n Crunch, Cinnamon Toast Crunch Chef & Cookie Crook
Piece of cake: Marry the Chef, duh. Being fat and well fed is what marriage is all about, no? Then let the Cap'n dock in your port, sailors are only in town for a night anyways just make sure you double bag his periscope. And I guess this means you would have to kill the cookie crook, which is a bummer, as Cookie Crisp is my favorite cereal, but looking on the bright side, you'd probs get a sweet reward and free cookies for life from all the bakers he's been jacking since the 80's.
Lucky the Leprechaun, Tony the Tiger & the Trix Rabbit
As much as I have a thing for red-heads, kill that stingy Mick and his pot of gold. lucky Charms is a mean cereal. Sneaking in that Cheerio-knockoff bullshit when all anyone really buys it for is the marshmallows. You know how many brutally senseless fights have taken place between siblings when one eats all the marshmallows and leaves the cardboard-tasting refuse in the box? Many. In this scenario, whatever you do, don't marry that rabbit. If there's one thing rabbits know how to do, it's procreate. You will be prego ma-lego on the reg-o. Bone the rabbit, sure, but maybe have your uterus removed first. Then marry Tony! Now there's a real man. Fuckit, just marry Tony and have him eat the other two. Don't even deal.
Toucan Sam, Sonny the Cocoa Puffs Bird & Dig 'Em the Smacks Frog
First off, who wears a striped turtleneck with no pants and why would General Mills think this is a good look for a cereal mascot. Way to teach kids to trust "cuckoo" pantsless dudes running around yelling about how much they love cocoa. Kill that fucker. You know what, I think I would marry Toucan Sam. He seems sensible and happy-go-lucky, but check out that bill! He's got a wild streak in him. But will make sure the kids get to bed at a reasonable hour. Sam would never mind being the designated driver and never judge or berrate you for getting too drunk at the company party or that one time you took a swing at the Morton Salt girl. No good whore. And Dig 'Em would be an easy lay. Just go to the local dive bar on any Tuesday and you'll find him pumping quarter after quarter into the jukebox and if you time it right and give a nod towards the bathroom in the back when "Young Turks" comes on, he'll follow you in and lay out a coupla lines on top of the toilet tank and tell you about back in the days when kids cereal was pure sugar, man, not this tree-hugging Kashi bullshit parents are feeding their beatnik kids nowadays and you'll slowly take his hand and lead him to his '89 Camaro in the parking lot behind the 7-11 and the windows will steam up for three brief, shining moments and over the sounds of "Maggie Mae" blaring from the juke, the bartender will swear he heard a raspy voice yell into the night, "GOTTA HAVE MY POPS."