The Finest Potato Stories

baked potato

The baked potato is a delicious potato, especially with sourcream. This is what a human thinks, anyways. The baked potato itself does not believe this.

Baked potato once had a good life. There was never pain. Just dirt, sometimes water. It was somewhat boring, but Baked Potato didnt really care. Baked potato was  only interested in life and living. The present. Not the future or the past.

This is why baked potato made no plans to prevent humans from captuting him. Some of his friends borrowed metres deep into the dirt. Some just hoped for the best. Baked potato didnt want to do that, though. It took too much effort to go through that. He was perfectly content where he was.

He was thinking about how happy his life was one day. How grateful he was to have a life. As he was thinking this, light began to pour through a shaft in the dirt. Baked potato furrowed his brow in confusion. Then he shrugged, deciding it wasnt worth the exhaustion of worrying.

A few moments later, the shaft widened. Then there was sharpness as a shovel dug into baked potato's side.

"Can you not?" He warbled. He did appreciate being disturbed from his thoughts.

The shovel kept poking at him. Baked potato rolled his eyes and decided to ignore it.

It didnt work out that way. Within minutes, baked potato was being lifted by the shovel. "Are you kidding me?" He screeched.

He saw the vivid face of a happy human looking down at him. "You are a turd." Baked potato said.

The human didnt appear to hear him. The person grabbed him off the shovels surface and barged back towards his house.

Baked potati tried valiantly to escaoe and go back to his dirt burrow, but the human didnt seem swayed by his struggles.

When they got to the human house, baked potato was placed in a cold metal sink. Hot water poured down over him. Then the human picked him up again. "Urgh, i could be sleeping right now." Baked potato snarled.

Baked potato was so angry he created a mouth and bit the human.

The human let out a shock of pain and dropped baked potato. The poor potato was partially splattered, but he didnt give up yet. He gathered his remaining pieces and strarted to roll away. He made his way to the white woord door.

Baked potato let out a sigh as he realized he couldnt open the door.

"Well this is a nuisance." He said.

Soon, the human caught up with him again. "There you are!" The human gasped and picked the potato up. "How did you get so far away? You cant even walk!"

Baked potato let out a grudging sigh.

The human took him back to the counter, washed him again and threw him into some tin foil. Then he was put in a lage heat box.

Baked potato was simmering both metaphorically and literally. Baked potato seethed with anger as he was burned to death. He realized that his name had foretold his death. He really was a baked potato.

Baked potato died feeling like a lonely, unloved, turd. It was really sad.