type-writer entries #6
A nice quiet house after a hard day of work
nobody home, only myself and the glow of my dining room light
the smell of delicious dinner
Veal, peas, mashed potatoes
Nothing could ruin this dinner
'OH SWEET GOD!' scream the peas
'What the?'
'What the hell do you think you're doing!?'
'I'm about to eat, what does it look like?'
'You heartless bastard' interrupts the veal
'What are you talking about, I want to eat' I begin to bring my fork to the peas once again
'Go for it' whispers the mashed potatoes
'What the hell are you telling him to do that for!?' the peas cry
'What is going on here?' I demand
'Let us explain something to you' the peas seem to regain their composure
'We are born and raised on the vine, and are stolen from our home by you people' the peas sound like they are getting upset 'we are not born like this, we are born in pods, we are with our loved ones connected to each other ways that you could never imagine' the peas are beginning to cry again 'and then you come up and tear us apart, rip us from our home'
'So what? That's what you're made for' I reply hungrily
'Wait! We're not finished! Not only do you tear us from our homes, but you stick us into an air vacuumed plastic bag and throw us into a freezer' the peas can barely speak through their weeping 'it is utter torture, and now you sit here happily going to devour us and have us leave this world with no dignity and having felt nothing but pain?'
'Yes, yes I would'
'Fine then! Eat the peas! But spare me! the veal yells
"I'm ever closer to you than they are, they are vegetables, we're both animals. Vegetable can't feel things the same way we can, allow me to share with you my story. I was born in West Virgina and used to spend my time suckling on my mother's udder. I couldn't not even walk yet and I was grabbed by my legs and thrown into a cage that was no bigger than I was. Every time I tried to move I couldn't, eventually I grew even larger than my cage and I was NEVER released. I cried every day, the same way you cray with tears and salt. I cannot even comprehend how much time went by and eventually a man, very much like you, came to get me. He pulled me out of the cage and I couldn't stand to greet him. I licked his boots because there was nothing else I could do. He pulled out a shotgun and shot me in the head. I did not die immediately, it took a few minuets of numbing pain for me to finally pass. I was ripped to shreds in a machine and packaged the same way the peas were. Do not devour me please, allow me to be buried in the earth as god intended so I...'
'Do whatever the fuck you want to those two, but please do me a favor and eat me' the mashed potatoes said without emotion. 'I grew up on a vine like our friend the peas. I was plucked from the vine and mashed and mashed until I felt nothing but pain. End this for me please I don't want this anymore...' the potatoes had accepted their fate 'maybe when you eat me I won't feel this terrible pain anymore'.
I started with the peas. Fork full after fork full I could hear their screams of pain. The veal took longer because I had to cut it, it wailed and cried for mercy during every bite. When I finished the veal I looked at the mashed potatoes.
'My turn' they added
I felt full from the veal and peas and decided to throw the mashed potatoes in the trash. As I went to bed I could still hear them yelling form my trash-can. I went downstairs and took the trash-bag outside and I couldn't hear the mashed potatoes anymore.
nobody home, only myself and the glow of my dining room light
the smell of delicious dinner
Veal, peas, mashed potatoes
Nothing could ruin this dinner
'OH SWEET GOD!' scream the peas
'What the?'
'What the hell do you think you're doing!?'
'I'm about to eat, what does it look like?'
'You heartless bastard' interrupts the veal
'What are you talking about, I want to eat' I begin to bring my fork to the peas once again
'Go for it' whispers the mashed potatoes
'What the hell are you telling him to do that for!?' the peas cry
'What is going on here?' I demand
'Let us explain something to you' the peas seem to regain their composure
'We are born and raised on the vine, and are stolen from our home by you people' the peas sound like they are getting upset 'we are not born like this, we are born in pods, we are with our loved ones connected to each other ways that you could never imagine' the peas are beginning to cry again 'and then you come up and tear us apart, rip us from our home'
'So what? That's what you're made for' I reply hungrily
'Wait! We're not finished! Not only do you tear us from our homes, but you stick us into an air vacuumed plastic bag and throw us into a freezer' the peas can barely speak through their weeping 'it is utter torture, and now you sit here happily going to devour us and have us leave this world with no dignity and having felt nothing but pain?'
'Yes, yes I would'
'Fine then! Eat the peas! But spare me! the veal yells
"I'm ever closer to you than they are, they are vegetables, we're both animals. Vegetable can't feel things the same way we can, allow me to share with you my story. I was born in West Virgina and used to spend my time suckling on my mother's udder. I couldn't not even walk yet and I was grabbed by my legs and thrown into a cage that was no bigger than I was. Every time I tried to move I couldn't, eventually I grew even larger than my cage and I was NEVER released. I cried every day, the same way you cray with tears and salt. I cannot even comprehend how much time went by and eventually a man, very much like you, came to get me. He pulled me out of the cage and I couldn't stand to greet him. I licked his boots because there was nothing else I could do. He pulled out a shotgun and shot me in the head. I did not die immediately, it took a few minuets of numbing pain for me to finally pass. I was ripped to shreds in a machine and packaged the same way the peas were. Do not devour me please, allow me to be buried in the earth as god intended so I...'
'Do whatever the fuck you want to those two, but please do me a favor and eat me' the mashed potatoes said without emotion. 'I grew up on a vine like our friend the peas. I was plucked from the vine and mashed and mashed until I felt nothing but pain. End this for me please I don't want this anymore...' the potatoes had accepted their fate 'maybe when you eat me I won't feel this terrible pain anymore'.
I started with the peas. Fork full after fork full I could hear their screams of pain. The veal took longer because I had to cut it, it wailed and cried for mercy during every bite. When I finished the veal I looked at the mashed potatoes.
'My turn' they added
I felt full from the veal and peas and decided to throw the mashed potatoes in the trash. As I went to bed I could still hear them yelling form my trash-can. I went downstairs and took the trash-bag outside and I couldn't hear the mashed potatoes anymore.