by Joshua Blanc
Food Guy sat in his tower of cheese. Today was like any other in
Kitchen City, except that it was a Monday -- and you only got one of those a
week. He'd risen from his bed of pepperoni pizza as usual, brushed his
leeks, and combed his carrot-top before donning his cape of capers and
helmet of head-cheese. He was a crime-fighter, and a crime-fighter
needs a groovy costume.|
"Aah. Another fine day for taking a bite outta crime!"
He leapt out the window, since it was open, and flew low above the suburban pots and pans. In the distance stood skyscrapers of sparkling dishes and, in the center of it all, the life-giving fridge.
With his sense for detecting bad-mayonnaise, he zeroed-in on a crime in progress.
"Bad guys beware, when Food is in the air!"
Faster than a Jiffy Burger and a small order of fries, he zoomed down and landed on the street. Nearby, an old lady was being menaced by a half-dozen bad eggs.
"In a pickle, Madam?" he asked.
"Food Guy!" said the woman. "I'm saved!"
"Why, yes. Yes you are!"
"We'll see about that, Food Guy!" said Rotten Roy, leader of the bad eggs.
Food Guy could tell by the flavour of his left olive that these eggs were hard-boiled. The egg-beater he carried at his side would be useless against these poachers. He needed some heavier artillery. A potato masher would be perfect. As it happened, he had one dangling from his left cauliflower ear.
"Are you going to surrender, or do I mash you and sprinkle you with curry?" he said.
"Do your worst, Food-head!"
"As you wish."
Lunging forward, he let the first one have it. Its shell cracked on contact, and sickly green insides wormed from the wound through the gaps in the masher.
"Well, Humpty Dumpty, let's see the King's horses and King's men put you back together. Anyone changed their mind about surrendering yet?"
The other eggs cowered.
"We give up! Don't devil us, Food Guy!"
"I knew you'd see the sunny side of things. The police will be along to collect you in ... two seconds."
Two seconds later the police arrived.
"Food Guy! Thank Slob you're here!" said the officer in charge.
"What's up, officer Odourless?"
"It's the jelly plant, Food Guy. There's been a meltdown! She might explode at any minute and Kitchen City will see the biggest jelly fight in history!"
"I'm there!" said Food Guy, and suddenly he was.
The Jelly Rollers fled the mould as it seethed and pulsated.
"Get clear as fast as you can, people! It's almost reached gelatinous mass!"
He consulted his guide to all things food. To halt the meltdown, he would have to cool the jelly down -- fast. Ice was what he needed, and lots of it; before the jelly was too hot to cool down at all.
Of course! The icecream place on Eggplant Ave! One scoop at a time, he spooned the cold icecream (vanilla, of course) over the jelly mould until it was completely covered. The icecream became soft as it absorbed the heat, but the entire mound stabilized. The plan worked.
"Yay!" cried the crowd.
"Jelly and Icecream for everyone!"