Hot Pocket: Difference between revisions
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I was starving and I longed for something delicious that required minimal effort.
I scanned my freezer. I
Hidden under a bunch of popsicles, I found a collapsed, ice encrusted box of Hot Pockets. I opened it up and found one straggler inside.
I felt like
I removed the plastic wrapping and held it up to my nose. Even frozen it smelled good, like a hug from grandma.
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My dog sulked in front of her empty food dish.
The microwave dinged and I removed the steaming envelope of warm dough.
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I put it on a plate, grabbed a fork and a knife, and sat down at my kitchen table.
I was poised to cut into it when my supper started moving.
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I watched stunned as it spread its doughy lips and emitted a rasping cough. It sprayed bits of marinara sauce on to the plate.
It began to rock back and forth and then made a sound like a mucousy old man clearing his throat.
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It stopped moving and I prodded it with the end of my fork.
I took a long draw from my Dr. Pepper.
That was pretty heavy, especially coming from the animated mouth of my supper.
I shook my head.
My mind reeled. I
However, if what the Hot Pocket said was true, then I could save the world. This was a lot to take in at once.
"I'll do what I can," I said. I patted my dog on her head.
I hopped into my pickup truck and drove off.
An hour later I parked in a unlit shadow behind the grocery store.
The large door rattled open and I saw someone emerge.
He
I scrutinized him from the darkness of my truck as he leafed through his book and took another drag.
I
After five minutes, he stubbed out his pot on the wall, stood up and started his walk back to work.
I noticed he left his textbook behind. I got out of my truck, bent over and picked it up. The book was titled
All doubt drained from my mind. This was the individual whose hubris would topple everything humanity had built up over the course of millenia. I had to act.
The guy turned around. He had a sheepish, recently-baked look. He walked back towards me and he saw the book.
Then I bashed his brains in. The book was four inches thick and had to weigh ten pounds. It felt like I was swinging a rectangular sledgehammer.
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Each impactful blow sucked the life out of him. I continued until he stopped breathing.
On my way back to the I truck remembered the talking Hot
So I parked in front of the grocery store and bought every single box they had. It cost me $450 and they almost overflowed out of the back of my truck.
I used the self-checkout machine because I
Ten minutes later
I immediately notice there is a problem. The talking Hot Pocket is missing. I frantically scan the kitchen.
Then, from behind the corner, I hear my dog chewing on something. I find her in her bed as
If only
That Hot Pocket was my get out of jail card. I needed that talkative frozen pastry tell the police that I
Wait. The other Hot Pockets. If I cook them up, maybe they can speak on his behalf!
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And not a single one spoke.
It was too late. I was screwed. Worst of all, I was still starving.
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