"You want me to... what?!" "It'll be fine,

"You want me to... what?!" "It'll be fine, Dave does it the whole time." "His crazy relatives die all the time?" "... you know, legal stuff." Great-aunt Galdys was "eccentric".

Mushrooms was one thing, Wall Mulch was another. "I don't want to huff or puff!" Patricia exclaimed. She knew that her parents would implode if they found out - literally.

She needed a way to tell them, but only figuratively. A nice safe firewall of metaphor between them and a pulpy finish. Perhaps a coded message? She needn't mention the Wall Mulch.

Sooner or later, it would mention her. It had known her from a child, when she was as soft as compost herself. The Mulch had been her only companion all these years. And now she

was here, right in front of them all. She couldn't speak, but her face conveyed an eternity of unfulfilled promises and fantastical disappointments. After a stony silence, she

projectile vomited everything she had eaten that day onto the sidewalk. Under the light of the full moon, the gooey mass began to yawn and stretch, lifting itself up from the

pavement. From its back emerged translucent wings of bile, which shown green against the moonlight as it rose into the sky, gagging and heaving. She watched in horror as it flew

upwards to assault the people in the window of the tower block. The fought back bravely with their drum sticks but the wings of bile were no match for the colonel's chicken!

Colonel Sanders himself emerged from the crowd, bloodied and bruised. He had been fighting alongside them the entire time! He took a stale biscuit and chucked it at the building,

"You ruined me!". Colonel Sanders cried, his biscuit hitting the building's wall with a hollow thud. "Now, however, I have gotten my revenge! I have restored the honor of KFC!"