Pringle Princess

Chapter 5

       So Pring got to work.  She peeled, cut, cooked, seasoned, peeled, cut, cooked, seasoned, all day.  After producing two bucketfuls of these chips, Pring ran over and banged on the door.
       "I've done it!  I've perfected the recipe!"
       No response.  She banged on the door again,
       "Let me out!"
       She heard footsteps.  Julius had approached the door. 
       "Oh?  How much potato-y goodness have you made, princess?" He snickered.
       "Two bucketfuls," Pring shouted with rage.  "Now let me out, it's hot in here."
       The lock on the door clicked.  Pring backed up.  The door swung open.  Pring excitedly made her way to leave, but stopped when a small, elf-like person stepped into the room.  He had pointed ears, short white hair, and a large red hat that matched his vest that's was under a green coat. 
       "Hello, my dear," his voice was high pitched, and Pring immediately found him obnoxious, "I've been sent in to help you in your snack making."  He smiled.  Before Pring could speak he went on, "Have you a name for them yet?  They're meant to be named after you, correct?  Yes, the deal, Julius had explained that to me.  Pring.  Pring Chips?  Pringies, P-p-pring treats.  Pringle.  Pringlesss. Yes!  That's it!  Pringles!" Pring could no longer tell who this elf was talking to, her, or himself.
       He noticed that Pring was looking a little lost.  "Oh, dear, my, my, my, I apologize.  I seem to have gotten a bit carried away.  My name's Ernie.  I'm here to help, though I prefer making sweeter treats."
       Pring was so tired of this.  "So you're in on Julius' twisted little plot?"
       "Plot? What do you mean?"
       "He's tricked me, and sent you in to torment me further!"
       "But he said you two have a deal."
       "Yes, but holding me in here against my will was not part of it!"
       "I was not aware of that."
       Ernie looked back at the door, which had been locked behind him.  It was silent.  Moments passed, and Ernie spoke once more, "We better get to making these Pringles then."
       Pring sighed, but knew cooperating was her only way out.  She began teaching Ernie, who was less enthusiastic now, how to make her creations.  The measurements, the cuts, the spices, the cooking.  Pring had come up with it, and now, as she taught it to the elf, she knew it was on its way to be mass produced.  Everyone would love them.  Pringles.