It was a cold winter night, they said.But actually, it was rather hot. Humid. A storm was brewing in the air. And it was, of course, summer.No wonder the noods attacked. They always had perfect timing.
Adults stayed inside the kitchen, ready to eat the delicious ramen in front of them. The children knew better. The infants threw up their bowls, glaring at the steamy noods as they flew through the air.The teens couldn't understand why they no longer liked them; there was no explanation. They simply would not enjoy them, they knew that. But the adults were a different matter.
Adults dug into the noods with a ferocious growl, as a voracious animal inside them screamed mine! They tore up the tables, using forks and spoons to defend their precious, precious noods.The children watched in horror as their parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts all turned their sights on them. Thus the noods attacked.
The children locked themselves away, in dressers, under beds, and behind couches. But the only safe places were closets. They could only come out if they too were adults.The children were starving. Starving for light, happiness, laughter and love. But their parents were these no longer. They were under the tantalizing spell of the noods.
So the children learned, until they became feral, fierce enough to fight the maniacs that were now the adults. If they didn't, well, they died.
And as blood was shed across the world, one child in a closet remained. He had stocked up on food and water, used to being in a closet.And his name was...
"Anthony, angel, come out of the closet. NOW!"
