No, You May NOT Eat Bob The Duck - Alyssa

Chapter 2 - Condiment Lattes?

The door flung open to reveal an Alex, grinning like a fool and a duck hot on her heels.

"Alyssa!" she screams, "YOUR LATE!"

I glare at her, pursing my lips, "How can I be late when there was no time to come?"

"Well," she starts, "I said come as soon as possible. This is not, as soon as possible."

I sigh, "Bully."

"Yup! That's me!" she quips, not missing a beat.

Brushing past her and Bob the Duck, I enter the messy living room. Bob the Duck follows me. I look at the counter and stifle a laugh. Really, what did I expect? Sitting there was a mug of liquid and some pieces of bread and some scraps of lettuce. Okay..... I move forward quickly reel back when I realize the romaine lettuce heart on the ground. This was TERRIBLE. It had to be cleaned up.

Quickly, I pick up the lettuce heart and move to the bread and leaves scattered across the table. Tossing them in the trash, I move to the mug when a stench hits me and Alex runs in front of me, knocking the mug and all of its contents to the ground. Welp, now I know what was in it.

I step back, dodging the mixture of condiments hitting the ground. Let me see, horseradish, mustard, relish, and ketchup. Great. I wonder who was drinking that. Quite obvious actually, it was Alex! I can totally imagine Alex sitting on the counter, drinking her 'Condiment Latte."

Shaking my head, I suddenly hear uncontrollable sobbing from....

Bob the Duck! Woohoo!

"NOOOO!!! Not Mr. Condiment! What did he ever do to you??" He wails. Oh. Well, guess it wasn't Alex. It was Bob the crying duck. Cue the explosion. Cue the death. Cue self imploding. Cue the 'Woah." My mind has done the exploding.

I watch as Alex marches up to the dying cat and kicks him out the still open door before slamming in the duck's face. As she walks away from the door, a malicious smirk plays on her lips. Why was she my best friend? When did my life come to this?

Suddenly, her mouth opens, "We need to get to work!"

Alex skips to the closet and pulls out brooms and mops. Then, with the skills of amateurs, we clean up the mess made by a master. In fact, we dumped the Condiment Monster down the drain so that it could travel the world and live it's life (even though Bob the duck said he was dead. Ignore his lies.) In the end, we really couldn't do much to clean the place up. Months (maybe even years) of dirt and dust were caked in layers and layers on every surface we could find. God help Alex, for how organized and prepared she always seemed to be, she was never, ever, very clean in her own home.