Wednesday, February 23

The wind came and took his last piece of meat away.

Wheat had never been hungry before. His entire life had been like pancakes, nothing to it. But when he found himself stranded on that small bump of sand in the middle of the ocean with his best friend, he thought, "This is the end of the easy life. Now for the hard things that come with castaway-ness."

"What are you thinking, Wheat?" asked Randall, his best friend.

"I'm thinking I've never been hungry in my life," he scratched his head. "I mean not really hungry. There's always been food, you know?"

Randall nodded his head. He knew what Wheat was talking about. Wheat took this to imply permission to kill his friend and ration out the meat to allow enough time for a passing oil tanker or air craft carrier to rescue him.

That was a while ago. However long it takes to slowly eat a medium-sized best friend, that's how long. So maybe a week or two.

"And now I starve," says Wheat. "With no one to keep me company."

"I'm here," says a voice. "Don't forget about me." It's the ghost of some ancient Egyptian Pharoh. Wheat had forgotten all about him.

"You think you could get me something to eat?" asks Wheat.

"Sure," answers Ghost-Pharoh. He produces a large cake, but it's a ghost cake.

"I can't eat that," says Wheat. "It's ghost cake."

"Really?" Ghost-Pharoh takes a large bite out of the side. "You sure? This stuff's good. Anubis made it. He's so awesome."

And the two friends--close but not best--sit on the bump of sand in the middle of the ocean. Ghost-Pharo enjoys cake after cake as Wheat slowly starves into ghostness, remembering Super Markets and Fast Food Taco Restaurants with fondness.

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