Bang! Mr. Choy exploded through the door of the Baja Flesh restaurant. In front of him loomed the food court, a vast expanse of tables and chairs and vegetables eating their purchases from the Bigger Burger. A cupful of ben dip flew past his ear, striking a tomato in the face. He ran toward the door, leaping from table to table, spilling burgers and drinks in his haste to leave the mall.
All the while bits of food and utensils were landing around him. A leek caught a bowl of salsa across her hair. Tacos startled a pair of studying squash, destroying the book they were reading. A box of spoons hit a dining family of coconuts, sending spoons flying over the entire food court. Mr. Choy grabbed a tray, deftly deflecting the spoons and a burrito as he jumped from the last table.
He skidded across the floor on the tray, cutting his way through the surge of customers heading toward the Bigger Burger. He dodged a churro that sailed by his head, and flew out the doors. He didn't stop to look back until he reached his apartment.
The lights were off when he arrived, but the mushrooms were out on the front steps playing tic-tac-toe and staring blankly at the buildings across the street. Mr. Choy inserted his key into the lock. Something wasn't right. He looked around. The mushrooms had moved down the block, and were now sitting on a bench. He pulled the door open.
He didn't have time to react. Time stopped as he stared at the new resident of the apartment building, staring at him from the open door. He froze where he stood, his mouth hanging open, his hand glued to the doorknob. Slowly, seeming to move like a wave of molasses crashing onto the shore, a cascade of shredded wheat spewed forth from the doorway, enveloping Mr. Choy and sweeping him off of his feet. His world went dark.
"Is he dead?"
"I'm not sure."
"Wait, I see him breathing!"
"Sir, are you all right?"
Mr. Choy opened his eyes. He saw blue. Gradually faces appeared above him. "Above?" he thought. "Where am I?" he wondered.
"He's alive!" shouted one of the mushrooms. "I told you guys!"
"W-what happened?" asked Mr. Choy, looking around at the sheer number of vegetables that stood over him. He recognized the mushrooms, but many of the vegetables he had never seen before.
“You seem to have won the grand prize from the charity raffle,” said an eggplant Mr. Choy now realized was the superintendent of his apartment building.
“Who are all of you?” Mr. Choy asked.
“We’re the other people who live in this building,” said a stalk of broccoli that was leaning over him. “We were trapped in our apartments by the shredded wheat in the hall.”
“But why was the shredded wheat in the hall?” asked Mr. Choy. “I was supposed to get the boxes today, not loose cereal.”
“Well, we were trying to get the prize at the bottom of the box,” began one of the mushrooms.
“But it wasn’t there,” continued the other. “The box has a bowl on the front, but none of the boxes had a bowl in it!”
“So we wanted to see if any of the bags of cereal had bowls in them,” finished the first mushroom.
“Were you two in your right minds?” asked the eggplant, turning purple with anger. “What if these vegetables needed to get out of the building in an emergency?”
“I can assure you that they are never in their right minds,” answered Mr. Choy.
“While we’re out here,” asked the second mushroom, “does anyone have a bowl?”
To be continued…
