Gobble Gobble Gobble

He was down to the last millisecond.

He could hear footsteps grow louder.

His sides burned as he put all o’ his weight forward, till finally he squeezed through the opening with 1 pop.

He hopped up a complex set o’ solid objects & put his hands round it, feeling its heat warm his hands through the steel bowl, spices filling his nose.

The door creaked.

He froze.

“I know that’s you, Rocky,” the pink monster said with hands on his hips. “This is the 4th night in a row.”

Rocky turned back to normal & wiggled his li’l nose. “I told you: I get paid on the 15th. I only want a li’l. Can’t live on squirrels, you know.”


Burglar, millisecond, spaghetti