She sat on the couch and wished she was in Italy eating sushi with chopsticks. Or in Guam eating steak with a spork. She’d even settle for pizza in the Bahamas, or a spoon and some carrots…
But she was older now, and darn it, she was on a diet!
This story was written with input from @zaro27, @Caelum_Sky, @clayben, and @captainmakr on Twitter, who provided me with some interesting foods, countries, and eating utensils.
“That’s enough!” roared the Prince.
“But Your Majesty…”
“I said that’s enough!”
The page lowered his head and cautiously withdrew the cereal box. “But the doctor said–”
“Hang the doctor!” shouted the Prince. “Behead him! If I only want to eat six Cheerios, I’m only going to eat six Cheerios!”
“The sky is falling!” cried Chicken Little. “We must go tell the king!”
The king called for the tallest crane in the kingdom and sent three women up in it with sewing needles and strong thread. They mended the sky and sewed the rips up nice and tight.
The end.
“Oh man… You got owned! And he took your girlfriend, too! What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to become a recluse for two years and teach myself advanced martial arts so I can rescue her and be a hero!”
“That’s dumb.”
“…True. I’ll just find a new girlfriend.”
“These are your time-keeping files? What kind of a Mickey Mouse operation is this?”
“Look, we’re doing the best we can, under the circumstances.”
The auditor from Corporate was clearly unimpressed. “You’re missing essential paperwork, your tax numbers are off, and worst of all, you’ve missed Minnie’s last three paycheques!”
The alternate title for this story could be “Disorganized in Disneyland”.
It was time to take off the training wheels…
Literally.
Dad tossed the screwdriver up and down. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?” he grunted.
Terrence crossed his arms, frowned, and nodded emphatically.
Later, in the hospital, Terrence held his dad’s hand.
“Be tough,” said Terrence. “They can fix you.”
“Everything sure is great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I can’t think of a single possible thing that could make my life better.”
“More steak?”
“Nah; I’ve got plenty.”
“More bacon?”
“I already eat it four times a day…”
“More steak wrapped in bacon?”
“…I think you may have something there.”
“Say hello to my little friend,” sneered the dark-haired man.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” said his little friend.
“Are you new to town?” I asked.
“Yeah, I moved last week,” she replied. “I like it a lot here, but it’s hard to meet people.”
“Tell me about it!” I said.
Two glowing eyes peered at me from the shadows: wolves.
I blinked, and there were four eyes. Then six. Then ten.
Then… Thirteen?
I did a quick recount. Thirteen? That didn’t make sense. Had one lost an eye in a fight?
Ah, it had just been winking. I winked back.
“…humans gained ultraviolet vision, but found that its effect when combined with ordinary sight was disorienting. Hence the initiative to recolour our everyday surroundings to a sufficiently distinct hue….”
Dave hurriedly threw the lever, and the Twenty-First Century reasserted itself around him.
“It’s true, Jimmy! The future really is orange!”
This story won the Mere 50 Words contest, with a $50 prize. Congratulations!