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A Special Treat

"Waiter! Thereís a fly in my soup!"

"I know. Itís a very special one. We make them right here. Itís sweeter than honey. Bite the head off and see."

Harry munched the flyís head. "Yummy! Bring me more flies."

"Sorry. House rules say only one fly per customer."

"I demand to see the head chef!" Harry hollered.

"OK. But when you meet her, make sure you say Ďtrick or treat.í"

"Why?"

"House rules."

Entering the kitchen, Harold pointed to a green, undulating blob. "Whatís that?"

"Our head chef. She produces all the flies for our award-winning soup."

The blob snorted and expelled a fly directly into a soup bowl. Waiters applauded, then added broth.

Harold vomited and ran for the exit. Waiters grabbed Harry, bound him, and placed him inches from the glutinous blob.

"Hello," it gurgled. "Youíre cute. Whatís your name?"

"Tell her trick or treat, or she may get real mad," someone said. "Nasty things always happen when she gets mad."

Quivering, Harry said, "Trick or treat."

"How nice." the thing said. "Iíd love a treat." A monstrous tongue lashed out. Harry disappeared. The blob chewed, snorted, then expelled a fly into a soup bowl. Applauding waiters added broth.

Minutes later, a diner asked, "Waiter, whatís that floating in my soup?"

"A special treat, Sir. Itís delicious. And extremely fresh."

Story by:

Michael A. Kechula

m.kechula@att.net

submitted at 6:19pm

4 May 2009

Michael's stories have been published by 107 magazines and 30 anthologies.