It's all Turned to Custard.

It's all turned to custard, literally. I didn't mean to do it, it just kinda, happened. You see I was at a birthday party and we were having a custard cake, and custard is my weakness, so, BAZAM! Everything, and everyone, turned into custard, and flopped! Now I'm swimming in a pool of custard, trying to think of a way to turn them back.

I should probably tell you how I turned everyone to custard. See I'm part ogre. You're probably wondering why that would turn people to custard, but I'll explain soon. If you look long enough down my family tree, you’d see we were all ogres. For example my great, great grandmother, was completely ogre. Her weakness was apples. Her husband was a human, which is why, as the generations go on, we get less green.

 In the old days, ogres were feared throughout the lands. So feared that a group of wizards got together, and asked the most mighty ogre, what he most desired for him and his people. In return they asked if the ogres could stop eating everything. Including people. The ogre said he wanted everything to become his favorite food, whenever he wanted. The wish was granted. That wish was much loved by all the ogres. Little did they know that every time they saw that food, everything around them would turn into that food.

That's why I'm here, swimming in the delicious custard. I scoop a big dollop of custard onto my finger and let it ooze onto my tongue. I swim to the door and try to wrench it open. It’s stuck. All the custard is sticking to the door. Why is this custard so deliciously gooey?! I start shoving the custard into my face. The custard is creamy, melting into my mouth. I try to open the door again, but it’s still stuck! I swim through the pool of custard, mouth open. I reach the bottom of the door, and start pulling custard from the cracks in the door. It’s no use. More custard keeps pouring in. I swim to the top again and take three deep breaths. I freestyle my way to the stairs. I jump on top of them and start climbing up. Once I get to the top I spot a door. It’s old and wooden. It looks like something from a horror movie. If I was watching this movie, I would be yelling at the T.V to not go through the scary door. It’s the only way.

As I approach the door I start shaking. Ogres have one fear we all share.... Spiders. I touch the door. It’s ice cold. I slowly turn the iron handle. The door creaks open. I think of running back. “I can't,” I mutter to myself. I open the door fully and see an ogres worst nightmare. A Tarantula. I scream and slam the door shut. I sprint back down the stairs and dive into the custard. I slowly emerge from the custard.I know I have to go back up there. I crawl back up the stairs, whimpering. I know it’s up there and there’s nothing I can do about it. In the narrow hallway, I see a metal rod. I grab it and get ready to charge. I smash through the door and jump into the air. I slam the rod onto the tarantula’s head.

I gasp and open my eyes. I am in bed. I’m not an ogre. I’m not swimming in custard. But something is looming above me. I look up and see a giant, gooey, custard monster, I sigh, roll over and go back to sleep.