The toast, I learned had; r-u-n-n-o-f-t with the jelly in the wee hours of the morning, right before breakfast. At least that was the word around the counter top, as I walked in to the sudden; ”hush hush, here he comes,” upon arising this am. According to the salmon wrapped in paper who was more than willing to spill his guts, the two were joined in buttered bliss and then made their break just before dawn The ceremony was witnessed by two spoiled avocados and a can of cheese whiz and officiated over by a bag of mustard seeds germinating in the cold storage locker; better known as the box in the box. “We can’t take it anymore,” was their defying shout as they ran for their caloric lives in a scène right out of Mel Gibson’s, Apocalyptico! We will not die in vain at least not at dawn, served gently lain between and beside two nose runny wimpy eggs, too much of a coward to run for their own lives. Eggs that would rather roll over than, take it like a man. My interrogation of the rest of the chilled surrounds yielded little other information. The mayonnaise was rather bland about the whole thing, offering me a simple, “Who cares, like we needed them anyway! The ketchup in the back of the cabinet was a bit more upset, complaining, “How will we make a sandwich now?” In the hope of finding out more information, I held open refrigerator interrogations; a chilling experience but somebody had to do it. “You can only take so much the bananas replied, while the lunchmeat sat there not willing to say a word. Watch what you say the glass of OJ piped in. “They will squeeze the life out of you.”
