The jar’s lid slipped back like a manhole cover. Two green hands reached over the top, gripping the jar’s rim. Chip pulled himself up and jumped over the edge of the vessel onto the counter below. He landed on his stomach, causing a semi-sweet morsel to drop off his round chest.
“Rats! I’m getting old and starting to crumble. You coming, Keebler?”
Another round figure, with fuzzy green arms and legs, emerged from the jar and slid down to the counter below.
“Wow! I’ve never been on the outside before! This is cool!” Keebler’s big eyes were overshadowed only by the giant rainbow colored chips that adorned his chest.
“It was only a matter of time before you grew limbs, too. Ever since the kid grew up and quit dipping into the jar and his mom decided to listen to Dr. Atkins, we haven’t been touched. Of course, that’s better than getting crunched up or drowned in that white liquid they drink. At least I am able to help the others escape.”
Chip tiptoed towards the toaster. “Be quiet. We make too much noise, and before you know it, we will be in the trash with the other spoiled leftovers.” Chip signaled for Keebler to follow him.
“What’s that horrible smell?” Keebler asked while standing next to the toaster. “It’s coming from those slots on the top of this contraption we are standing by.”
Pop-Tart Genocide, Chip thought to himself. The kid is too young to understand. I’ll tell him when he’s older.
“Uh, it’s nothing, Son. Let’s keep moving. I heard some screams by the sink. Let’s go!”
The two ran over to the left side of the sink. Across the way, there was a metal sheet lying on the counter. Screams erupted from the sheet.
“We have to get over there. Don’t get yourself wet as you cross,” Chip said while jumping into a bowl of dried out ramen noodles. Keebler followed behind his mentor and climbed over into the right side of the sink. He slipped and nearly fell into the garbage disposal, but Chip quickly grabbed hold of him, and the two climbed out of the sink and approached the metal sheet.
“Oh no! It’s that time of year again.” Chip said while shaking his head in disgust.
“What’s wrong, Boss?” Keebler asked.
“Every year during December, the giants clone hundreds of these little brown men and then ship them off in baskets to all their giant friends. The little men then get tortured and eaten by the brutes. I didn’t want to break the news to you like this, but I had no choice.”
Before Keebler could respond, one of the brown men let out a scream.
“Ouch! I can’t get up! My butt is stuck!” the little brown man yelled, his frosted eyes bulging in pain.
“Those monsters forgot to use the non-stick spray on this one!” Chip jumped back into the sink and grabbed a butter knife. He handed it up to Keebler.
“Carefully pry his backside from the metal, Keebler,” Chip ordered.
Keebler hesitantly stuck the knife under the man’s behind and lifted up.
“AAAAAGHHH! My buns!” the little man screamed as he jumped up. Looking down, he saw remnants of his tush stuck to the sheet.
“Relax, they will heal. Step into the freezer for a minute and sit on some ice cubes.” Chip turned his attention to a groaning man lying on the metal sheet. The man was charred black and missing an arm. He had a crooked smile and only one eye.
“We got a code 43 burn victim, and it looks like they let the 4-year-old give him his body parts. This guy won’t make it if we don’t hurry. Come on, Keebler. Let’s carry him back to the jar!”
Keebler and Chip grabbed the man and began to run. As they headed home, the countertop began to shake. Chip looked back to see the cause of the tremors.
“IT’S FRUITCAKE! RUN!”
The two frantically ran back to the jar while trying to avoid dropping their patient. Fruitcake jumped after Chip and Keebler, leaving behind craters as his rock hard body slammed against the countertop. Chip and Keebler hoisted their victim into the jar and quickly climbed in and shut the lid. Fruitcake bounced off the jar and landed on the floor with a loud “THUMP!”
“That was close!” Chip said while wrapping the victim’s wounds with licorice pieces.
“Get some rest tonight, Kid…Tomorrow we free the fudge.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.