The fudge to me represents shame. It's the end of Christmas, and you know you have been eating like a pig, and should start to behave, but you are drawn back to the tin. What? Only the awful awful fudge left? Sh*t. It's no good, you know that you don't want the fudge. You don't need it. You won't in any way enjoy it. But you take it. A wave of SHAME washes over you. Why do I do this to myself, you think. Why do I eat chocolates I don't like when I'm already too fat. F**k you fudge, F**k everything your chocolate covered gunk represents. I hate you fudge.
Oh man there's a caramel left. Yessssssss! Life redeemed.