The Tale of the 5 AM Sandwich and the Perilous

The Tale of the 5 AM Sandwich and the Perilous Pickle of Peter Piper when confronted by Envy. Or sometimes The Rape of the Starbuck's Woman.who also worked at Panda Express.

These were all the names of would be movies I had yet to write. I was working as a belly button model in Hoboken to support my Aunt Myrtle's shoe addiction. It was sad. Poor thing

had eaten thousands of shoes, but none of them satisfied her. Now we're both just stuck here in Hoboken living out our meaningless lives. It would be nice to have some inspiration.

After having a lunch of a boot smoothie and a few Skechers, I decided to ask her about art.

"So," I began, suddenly fumbling for words. "Uh, you like painting?" She glanced over at me, lips pursed, and nodded once. Okay, good start. "How about, um, knitting?" I continued.

Ugh, that was lame. She gave me a look and a tiny smile and I wondered if she was laughing at me or found me cute. "Uh, can I see your painting?". At that her smile dissapeared and

an emotion I couldn't recognise clouded her eyes. "I don't think that's such a good idea" she whispered, turning her painting so I wouldn't be able to see it even if I tried

. What she didn't know was that now I could see her painting reflected in the mirror behind her. It was a painting of the two of us in a passionate embrace, only we had horns.

tally mad trying to work it out, rubbing my horns in vexation. What gave us away, damn it! Thick smoke billowed from my nose, & I absently flicked my pointy tail.We may never know.