The Potato

One day, a potato was brought to a store. A person bought the potato. The potato was scared.

He had never seen a person before.

Soon, the person brought the potato home. The house was warm and the potato was happy. A few minutes later, the person picked up the potato and started washing it. The potato had never been washed before, so he was happy.

Then, the potato was gently wrapped up in a nice, comfy, plush towel. The potato was very comfortable, so he was really happy. The potato stayed out a little while longer, wrapped up in the warm comfy towel, when suddenly he was picked up.

But the potato wasn't scared anymore. He was too happy. If potatoes could smile, he'd be the first. But then person got out a knife and started peeling the dark brown skin of the potato off. The potato was no longer happy. He screamed in murderus agony when he saw his luscious potato flakes falling all over him. Then, he was put onto a cutting board.

The potato could  very well feel the cold stainless steel cutting deep into his skinless body. Now oozing out of him, was potato juice. He couldn't look back at his decapitated body even if he wanted to, as his head was chopped up so small.

He was screaming his mind out and was screaming even louder when the rest of his body with him, was dumped into a pot of boiling water. The potatoes' insides were becoming soft, along with the rest of his lifeless body.

He was then thrown into a glass bowl; thinking the torture was over, but was very wrong. All of a sudden, ice cold milk and butter along with sour cream were plopped in with him. Now the potato was crying, but no tears came out.

Right then, he heard a loud noise above him and with his tiny cooked head he looked up and the last thing that poor, poor potato ever saw was a mixer chopping him into petite potato portions.

He was dumped on a plate, chewed, devoured, and swallowed by the nice person he had met at the store.