She had awful children. The screamed. They

She had awful children. The screamed. They cried. She wore a mask of numbness in public, with mirrored sunglasses. She couldn't show the world that she too hated her kids.

The old woman who lived in a shoe wasn't really that old. The kids made her look 20 years older than she really was. She had a thing for Peter Peter Pumpkin-eater, but no way was

she into the things they accused her of doing. She only had two children, and the only thing battered was the KFC they had for dinner that night. When Peter came over

she assured him that her fried chicken was home made. When he found her children emptying KFC value meals onto plates in the kitchen, he thought he could never trust again.

"But it tasted so good!" he lamented. Despairingly, he stared at his plate. "I should have known," he growled as he lifted his spork. "It was just too obvious..."

As his ellipsis faded away, he became aware of his surroundings. "Put the spork down and step out of the vehicle." The police negotiator lowered the bullhorn. "Suicide by cop

is the least fun of all." The police negotiator made a hand signal and the entire swat team surrounded his car, armed with oversized inflatable hammers. He pulled out his spork,

Which was very friendly with humans. Foons, spives,knoons, knorks all.played together.

But nobody would play with the knives because their mothers had warned them not to. So the knives played by themselves, secretly seething at their rejection by the others.

This prejudice and hatred towards knives, would later lead the knives to become the vigilante group known as "Sharpies". They battled vegetables and fruits, and sometimes cakes.