Write a story about the food in your refrigerator.
What does the food do in there when we close the door?
"Move over, it’s getting very cramped in here. If you are not careful I might fall, and there we have the mess”
“You might be an egg like the rest of us, but there are only enough places for six of us, and you are number seven; In this case six is company, and seven a crowd.”
“Is it my fault that the owner of this fridge is not more careful? She squeezed me in here. I was quite comfortable in my egg box, had it all to myself and then it happened. Taken out of the egg box, egg box thrown away and I have to sit on top of six strange eggs. I am sure we didn’t even come from the same chicken.”
“What’s that noise going on next door? Here I am trying to recover from the knife injuries I got this morning and all you eggs can do is complain.”
“Butter, you have always something to say. We eggs are simple folk. Just crack us open and then we are gone.”
“Exactly, just nice and easy. Imagine being butter. A piece of your flesh is hacked out and if you have some bad luck, you get the remains of the jam on your coat. Just look. I was nice and yellow this morning and now have a big red mark from the jam they ate for breakfast; just disgusting.”
“Excuse me, but that happens to be one of the most perfect stains you can have.”
“Oh, listen, big mouth jam is talking. At least you could apologise” spoke the butter quite annoyed.
“I do not apologise to any one, and especially not an inferior butter pack. We jams have a long life. Butter is inferior really, get too warm and you melt away. Your main job in life is to make a nice base for us jams.”
Jam was never very popular in the fridge. He was sticky and if the human did not clean his pot, he had stains running down the sides.
“Jam just stay where you are” said the butter. “I have enough red stains for today. What are you, strawberry or cherry?”
“I am raspberry actually; this year’s crop.”
“Can we ‘ave a bit of quiet up there on the top shelf. “We cheeses were ‘aving a nice sleep, maturing well; all that talking just excites us.”
“Yes camembert you are right.” Spoke the cheddar. “Did I ever tell you that you have such a sexy French accent.”
“You are making me blush cheddar. I might get a little bit too soft at the edges when you are so flattering. Such nice compliments from a sturdy English cheese we do not ‘ave every day.”
“I always did have a soft spot for you French cheeses. You have a sort of dignity that we cheddars don’t have."
“Oh, monsieur, you are really too kind.”
“Hey, salad, did you hear that; sounds like there is a love affair going on in the cheese drawer.”
“Who cares, tomatoes, we always come together in a bowl and don’t need all that talk about going soft and blushing. I heard that we get drowned in some sort of liquid before we are finally eaten.”
“Yes, it seems so salad, but that is our destiny I suppose.”
“Look out everyone, looks like someone will be chosen” the pickled onions called from their glass on the top shelf.
“Someone put the light out, it’s blinding me” said the cucumber.
“Can someone tell me how a cucumber can be blinded by a light” and the radish spoke up.
“Of course we can” answered the cucumber. “We delicate plants are very sensitive to light.”
“So who’s gone” asked the pickled onions. “One of us must have left this place, the door was opened.”
“Hello everyone, I just arrived.”
“Oh no, minced meat; move over, you stink” said the camembert cheese.
“I do not stink” answered the meat, “and you can talk you big hunk of yellow fat. If you weren’t wrapped up in paper, your smell would penetrate through all the cracks in the fridge door.”
“Oh, how cruel, I will ‘ave to cry.”
“See what you have done minced meat, my little friend the camembert is crying because of you. If I could move I would flatten you.”
“Just listen to the cheddar; I am just as British as you are. Come from a genuine English cow, so stop showing off. We don’t need that French stuff in a fridge.”
“And now listen to me you troublesome bunch of food. You are all in the same boat. You are keeping nice and cool and waiting to be chosen for a meal. You do not know who goes first, it is up to the humans, so I would just keep still and wait.”
“Who said that?” spoke all the food together in the fridge.
“Why, me of course, the fridge.”
“But a fridge cannot speak”
“Neither can cheese, meat, vegetable, butter, eggs or jam.”
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