Just a Small Fry

A Story by egotist

One of the first bits of writing I've ever done. It's very, very short

“I’m stuffed!” she whined, “No way I can eat anymore!”

Accross the table, her brother surveyed her box of fries, still half-full, greasy and soggy. Sighing slightly, he looked back at her. She grinned inwardly, confident that he would finish up for her as always. There are advantages to being six.

“How about, ” he proposed as he withdrew the smallest of fries, “Just this one?”

He’s bargaining! Victory was surely hers now. Magnaminously, she nodded, “I can do that.”

She took the dainty little piece of fried Russet Burbank, chewing confidently before she let it slide down her gullet triumphantly. “Now, how about one more? It’s just another little fry.”

She looked at him, her suspicions aroused. He was giving her that look. It is the kind of look that adults give when they are trying to be “educational”. Still, it really was only one more little fry, then they could go to the toy store and have some fun before Mummy came back. With a little trepedition, she took the evil yet lightly salted sliver and munched on it till it was a sliver no more.

Uh oh, he is grinning. “See? That’s all you have to do. Don’t worry about the scary box of fries. Just take one, and tell yourself " it’s just a fry, no big deal! And the go on to the next,” he nodded encouragingly.

Irritated by his smugness, yet intrigued by this new theory, she reached forward and snagged another morsel. Squinting her eyes, she scrutinised it. “You are just a little fry. You’re no big deal!” she declared as she chomped it like the dangerous predator she knew she was.

Spying another victim, she grasped it, pronounced it insignificant and summarily dispatched it. Like a lean mean machine, she plowed through them mercilessly, sparing nobody. It was over before she realised it. There were no survivors. She was victorious; conqueror of the fries!

“That wasn’t so hard was it?”

She agreed.