Always Room for Pudding

The big clock in the tower next to town hall chimed noon. Ralph stood up straight, put his shovel down, and wiped his brow. He looked at the long trench he’d been digging for the past 3 hours. He would go and eat lunch now. Then he’d fill that trench back in. A good day’s work.

As he walked to his truck, he marveled at the sense of satisfaction he was feeling. They had been right. “Fighting is is futile,” they’d told him. “Just be a good little soldier, Ralph. Do what you’re assigned and your life will be easier. Even good. Forget about the past.” Now

Ralph had every reason in the world to start up his truck and go home. But he didn’t. He put his keys back in his pocket, turned around, and taunted the crowd of hooligans and would be agitators, “I have enough pudding in my trunk to flood this town!”

But it was an error...little he knew that everyone in town loved pudding. So like a herd of zombies people just started running behind Ralph. He ran and hid behind a car, he put his hand in his pocket looking for his keys but there were nowhere to be found. He waited...

Sunlight flashed across Ralph’s face. He looked to locate the source of the light. His keys!! A small deformed squirrel stared at him defiantly before dashing off with his keys in its mouth. Aware of the encroaching mob of zombie pudding lovers, he sprinted after the creature.

“Fiends!” Ralph screamed, sweaty and panicked. The squirrel ran into the neon colored chamber containing the isotope which had created the monsters. The pudding was pouring out of the spigot on the other end, spilling onto the floor, only enticing the hordes clawing at the door.