The Sky Is Falling.

I guess i finished it finally. Need a’little more practice

I cant help myself

Buttered for Supper

It had been centuries since the human race was exterminated in World War V. After centuries of brutal Opression, the gift of genetic engineering allowed the entire cornucopia to come to life. Tomatoes, celery, sweet corn, and broccoli. All rose up against humanity and smited them from the universe. But unfortunately we became monsters...

I was on a call at a crime scene near the docks of Mas Santos City. Brussel sprouts dodging my cloudcar as I flew in to the dilapidated Shack in a bad neighborhood. The little spuds just don't know how bad they have it. They just need more programs to save them from this invegetable life. Several of my fellow spuds and blue had placed a quarantine at the shed. Reporters trying to get a buck off of the freak show inside, animals! Sergeant tried to block my path.

"This is a crime scene Detective!" I became bitterly resentful.

"Somebody's got to catch that Bad Apple!"

The sergeant looked at me confused.

"But we got him 'em!"

I looked at him perplexed. I would have thought that guy had ran all the way down to the Banana Republics by now. The sergeant allowed me to follow him into the broken down squatters Palace. Upon entering the building a strong, smell of stale butter filled room. It began to smell like a movie theater on opening night. Every wall was coated with butter, the floor was filled with nearly six inches of truffle butter, twisting and sneaking through every crevice of the hard broken concrete floor. And then came the monsters masterpiece. On an old wooden table like a sacrificial alter, layed the corpses of three slain broccoli children. Each of their randomly growing branches sliced enticed into a highly organized hors d'oeuvre tray. Reminiscent of the brutality or previous Masters. Arranged silver salad bowls there green silky stocks were dipped into gallons of melted Country Crock.

The Rage of the site filled my soul and I wanted to meet creature responsible. And there he sat grinning in the corner of the room with several other officers guarding him from the rest of us. The fully mature broccoli stock tilted his head up with an evil menacing stare, and a grin that made me shudder to this very day. His green leaves unkempt, his body covered in butter and the green vegetable juices of his slain children.

All my life I had never believed in evil. But when you see it in real life changes you. It hardens your heart and makes you look at the world with a cold stare as and stairs at you with the same dark herbivore stare.

#writing prompt by ZO AI

trying to get that boob shake right.