It was a dark and foggy Pumpkin Eve – the day before Halloween, and a commune of dinner rolls had gathered amongst a bowl of salad, spaghetti and garlic bread. “Buona note, mi amore”, Hadassa Dougherty said to one of her children as they fell asleep. But suddenly…a monster plucked them from their tinfoil protection from within their hiding spot in the takeout bag. “Mamma! NOooo!” Cried one of the rolls left behind as it watched its mother be pulled out of the bag like a claw-machine operated by a cruel and sadistic Grim Reaper (judging by the impecable bone structure), though be it an incredibly charming and good looking one. “Look away child! Mamma lov”—Cried Hadassa before the monster bit into her skull and devoured the rest of her, mid-sentence.
Within moments, the entire bowl of spaghetti and both halves of the long-cut garlic bread fell quick victim to the monsters insatiable gluttony for innocent lives.
The salad begged for it to be spared as the bread rolls cried too for a mercy that would be afforded to none of them. The crunch of lettuce and slurp of noodles played like an orchestra of murder over the screams of horror below as the monster washed down his victims bodies with a blend of pure Pomegranate juice mixed with pure cranberry juice flavored with a shot of Tropicana Fruit Punch that is actually only 5% juice but is really sweet (cuz duh – only 5% actual juice) so is used for flavoring to balance the cranberry – and the beast never relented.
The remaining leaves of salad and twirls of spaghetti prayed to Cheesus through their tears, holding out hope for their lives in that such a quantity of food couldn’t possibly be consumed by a single creature of the size before them – most certainly not with such an impressively low bodyfat percentage that’s coated in a glorious sheath of lean muscle.
The remaining 1 of 5 dinner rolls curled into the fetal position in the bottom of the bag, wailing in emotional agony and confusion at how such a flawlessly crafted organic machine could exist – and with such chiseled abs and back muscles noless – the likelihood that it could tolerate such an abundance of carbs in one sitting seemed impossible. But it happened. And red sauce spattered the crime scene to a degree that would keep Dexter Morgan busy for days.
I’ll never know why I was the only one spared that horrible massacre that night… Perhaps it was because us tomatoes are known for our articulate storytelling and the Handsome Beast of Halloween Eve wished for his legacy to be told to pizzas and cuts of beef across the land…warning them…that if they ever cross his path… they will be shown no mercy.
There are some days I am thankful for being alive… but most days I am only haunted by that horrible night. The smarmy grin on his finely tuned face that balances just the right levels of masculine features with adorable childlike whimsy as he, what appears to be a grown-ass-man, reacted to the broadcast of Cartoon Networks Adventure Time playing on the lighted screen before him as if he didn’t even hear the screams of terror coming from the family of breadlings he was tearing apart. Or maybe he just didnt care. I’ll never know for sure… But on cold autumn nights like these…I think back to the moments of that night. The moments that will live with me forever in my psyche, tormenting me, always…… and I just wish he killed me too.
._____.
Happy Halloween, everyone.
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