Goodies & Grits [FOOD RP]

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foodforpigs

uncultured swine
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Beginner
  2. Elementary
  3. Intermediate
  4. Adept
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
fantasy, scifi, horror, magical, drama
Congratulations!

You are now an animated food item that can be found in a household kitchen, where all food items have been magically animated by unknown powers. During the workday you can move around a bachelor's house, since he is away. Unlike Toy Story, it doesn't matter where you end up in the house when "The Beast" returns, since he attributes any misplaced item as a result of his criminal negligence when it comes to cleaning. Best to stay away from the Outside though (ANIMALS, egads!). You should, however, look as unappealing as possible upon his return(especially you, apple-ing apple and a-peeling banana) so you reduce the chances of being 'ATE'.

In your first post, you can state which food item you are (as a single serving size) and where you are in the house to start. We can work in 'day rotations' as time progresses, as well as natural rotting/aging according to time. Death is not enforced by anyone; when it's dramatically right to go, it's right to go.

You can change your food characters as you please, and you are not restricted by archetypes portrayed on VeggiTales or otherwise. You can be a really sweet lime.

Lettuce begin.
 
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Senior Bread was slowly becoming the last man standing in his extensive family of whole wheat bread. His lasting survival was largely contributed by the other foods to being whole wheat and to being the butt of the bread. No one ever ate the butt of the bread. Whenever the Consummanator came home and pined for a sandwich, he'd reach his grubby hand into the bag and rudely shove Senior Bread out of the way for more desirable pieces. Hell, Senior Bread was surprised that the human was even eating whole wheat bread. Maybe it was one of his health kicks?

Today he was staring forlornly at his bread bag - his home, which was now filled considerably less. The last few good pieces, his children and grandchildren, were falling victim to someone else's hunger. It was a tragedy in its own right, to be the most undesirable slice of bread!

Listlessly, Senior Bread flopped onto the kitchen counter. He was an old bread, and if he wasn't consumed, he surely was going to fall victim to mold soon. Sometimes he thought about slicing off his undesirable crusty back to try and get eaten sooner, just to end it all! But, he had no hands. He was bread.
 
I am a banana, but I am not yet bananas like that other bunch across the counter, brown and freckled and gibbering about one day becoming one in the form of bread. I cannot see how. What do I know though? I am the greenest of my bunch, the youngest. My compatriots know much more, yet are not all cowardly though they are literally a yellow-bellied lot. The skins of our families litter the tile floor of the kitchen, black in death.

I remember only vaguely the time when my bunch was plucked from its jungle home. At least there, better groomed simians with nice and full fur coats took and ate us. That Pinky Sparse Hair Beast is but a crude imitation of that. The pain was that I would last for a long time and watch until I too turned yellow. Some days I wish I would never have to, and skip right to being One in that same higher Banana Bread Purpose, but The Beast was clearly incapable of using the holy fire that made death almost seem an honorable thing.

When I move, it's always a struggle as I push my weight along the counter. I'm not as adept at this as the others, for when I do bounce up, I slam back, hard on the counter. The yellows still call me a baby for shuffling all the time.
 
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Light on.
Light off.
Light on.
Light off.

That's how life was in the chilly apartment where most of us coldies dwell. I hated it, I was sick in living in such a cold place! Me and my siblings lived in terror each time our very vulnerable apartment is opened.

Everyday us Coldies are attacked, it was sausage first, sweet chap. Then the veggies clan, and don't get me started on the horrors of the condiments, their screams of horror and agony as the Beast use them.

Its horrible, I lost the majority of my siblings to them, they lift our green snug cage, and open it.

They pluck us up, each time their paws come down onto our soft shells and grip us tightly we fear what is too come, I seen my siblings boiled, turned into other foods, fried, and scrambled!

And those few luckily to not to be ate goes back in the apartment.

But I'm sick of it, I want to explore the rest of the bigger world where the Beasts dwell!

Then one day I got my chance, I was chosen to become fodder to the beast but they lost their chance for a strange ringing sound come out of nowhere.

They made a weird noise before walking away.

I was a lucky egg, literally!

I got to finally roll around on the counter, I rolled across the black surface with numbers and strange stand things.

I spun around once more when I saw it!

I was in awe! I could seen the other side of the strange building!

I rolled closer and closer to the edge and before I realized it I fell!

The sensation was new, and unlike one I ever experienced!
 
Salt Cube #2932 ​Theta. Thats my name, as much as anyone can have one in this vaulted prison of glass. We're packed in here like tetris pieces. There are at least six of my kindred pressed against my body right now. Nearly every day, terrible seismic tremors jostle and shake us around, the dome of heaven flips below us, and some of our people slip down through the bright holes in the night sky, never to be heard from again. You get new neighbors, but it's pointless to try to talk to them. They will just come back with some sassy remark.

so salty.
 
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