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Shrimpy by Galen

In the scheme of things, it wasn't a permanent state I was after. Just long enough to get on stage, dance for two minutes and fifteen seconds, and get off.

Five pounds, what did that even look like. I dragged the scale into the kitchen and got out a can of beans. 1.3 lbs. A gallon of milk. 8.33lbs. Two boxes of fish sticks didn't even move the needle. A giant bag of shrimp. I mean, GIANT. Boom. Five pounds.

I needed to shed a GIANT bag of shrimp in a matter of days. I eyed the shrimp, their gray bodies and clenched legs. Their unicorn horn pointing forward, framed by black beads.

I couldn't believe how delicious they looked. Days of fasting and I was about ready to eat those frozen shrimp like potato chips. I stared lustily. I salivated. I blinked.

A shrimp blinked back.

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Eh, toss this story
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My feet ached, but it was well worth it.

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