I Have a Cap'n Crunch Lodged in My Throat

Well, it's actually an imitation Cap'n Crunch — the Ralphs knock-off brand, known as Crisp Crunch, which I bought because of being a cheap Jew bastard — but it looks and tastes the same, and is every bit as irritating in its current location somewhere just beyond my uvula. I gagged on it a little, see, because it started going down the wrong way, and it was just on that brink where I could have spat it back out if I acted quick enough, but instead I swallowed, and now it's stuck in Wrong Way Town. This is a bitch. DAMN YOU, YOU CAP'N CRUNCH IMPOSTOR!!!!!!!!!! If you were the real Cap'n Crunch, you would have no doubt navigated your way down the correct corridor without any problem. Got a scalpal? Or at least a bottle of whiskey? Maybe if I drink myself into oblivion, I can just puke you up. Now that's using the ol' noggin'!