(NOTE: This is the story we made up over dinner tonight. I'm sharing it in case you have a mac and cheese eater in your house who might like to hear it. I didn't take time to revise or anything. 'Just jotted it down quickly, so I apologize for any errors.)
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Once upon a time, there was a macaroni and cheese monster. His name was Mosie, and he wore an orange shirt, he had a giant cheesy weapon of destruction. It looked kind of like a spoon.
One day, the macaroni and cheese monster stomped down to the village of macaroni and cheese. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. All the little mommy and daddy and baby noodles were tucked into their big comfy bed sleeping. It looked kind of like a bowl.
“I’m hungry!” growled Mosie the macaroni and cheese monster! “I’m going to eat you up!”
“Noooo!” cried the macaroni and cheeses. “We are snuggly and innocent, and we don’t want to be eaten by the big scary monster!”
But the macaroni and cheese monster grabbed his cheesy weapon of destruction, and he got a big spoonful of villagers, and he ATE THEM UP! Nom, nom, nom.
“Aaaaah!” they said. But as he was chewing, they said, “Wait! This feels kind of like a massage. Can you get that spot right there on my back? Yes, that’s very nice, thank you!” Then he swallowed, and the villagers said, “Wheeeeeee!” all the slippery sloppery way down Mosie’s throat until they landed, “Plosh,” into the soft of his tummy. It was cozy Mosie down there, and so they snuggled down again and went back to sleep.
Then, the macaroni and cheese monster looked at the bowl full of sleeping noodles, and he said, “I’m STILL hungry!” And he grabbed his cheesy weapon of destruction, and he scooped up another spoonful of screaming macaronis (they were screaming because they didn’t know that getting chewed up was fun), and he gobbled them down.
The macaronis stopped screaming, and they said, “Hey! This tickles! Hee, hee, hee!” and they giggled and gaggled and cuckled and cackled until Mosie the macaroni and cheese monster swallowed them, and they said, “Wheeeeeeeee!” all the slippery sloppery way down Mosie’s throat until they landed, “Plosh!” into the soft of his tummy. It was cozy Mosie down there, and so they snuggled down and went to sleep.
By this time, the macaronis left in the bowl had a plan. They said, “Hey, you, macaroni and cheese monster, do you have a SISTER?”
Mosie the macaroni and cheese monster said, “Yes.”
And the macaroni and cheese (or macaronis plural and cheese singular, or macaronis and cheeses both plural, or however that goes) said, “Why don’t you give us to your sister?” They said this because they knew sisters were elegant maidens with pretty blue eyes and long golden hair, and they assumed, because of these things, that they wouldn’t be such gobbly chewy uppy creatures.
Sadly, Mosie’s sister was twelve, and she was far too dignified for macaroni and cheese. In fact, she had been wearing nail polish and ordering salads from the grown-up menu since December; and she had lost her interest in noodles almost entirely.
So Mosie said, “No! She doesn’t like macaroni and cheese!” And he picked up his cheesy weapon of destruction, and he scooped up a big bite of villagers, and he popped them in his mouth. It was a very big bite of noodes, ginormous, really. In fact, a little noodle juice spooged out the edges of his mouth, and all of the macaronis left in the bowl saw it, and they were thoroughly horrified.
But the noodles inside Mosie’s mouth were jumping up and down on his spongy pink tongue just as if they were in one of those big puffy jumpy up and downy things that they have at school fall festivals, and they didn’t even take their shoes off first. They said, “Yahoo! Yippie tie yay!” until Mosie the macaroni and cheese monster swallowed them, and they said, “Wheeeeeeeee!” all the slippery sloppery way down Mosie’s throat until they landed, “Plosh!” into the soft of his tummy. It was cozy Mosie down there, and so they snuggled down and went to sleep.
Finally, the entire macaroni and cheese village was inside Mosie’s tummy. They snored and snuffed from exhaustion and utter comfortability until the littlest macaroni and cheese woke up and began to poke all the others in the ribs. “Hey!” he said. I want some, “CHOCOLATE!” and the other macaroni and cheeses (or macaronis plural and cheese singular, or macaronis and cheeses both plural, or however that goes) began to wake up, and they said, “Me too! Me too!”
So, they banged on the inside of Mosie like this, “Knock, knock, knock!” and they said, “We, the village of macaroni and cheese, demand a Triple Chocolate Mousse Strata!”
But Mosie the macaroni and cheese monster was full of noodles, so he said, “No!” And he licked both sides of his spoon... I mean... his giant cheesy weapon of destruction (which was very bad manners), and he kissed his mommy and thanked her for the meal (which was gentlemanly, indeed), and he excused himself from futher monsterdom until dinnertime.
The End
