A Slightly Terrifying Vignette About Avocado Toast
I am reading a novel with my cat. She purrs soft lullabies in my ear. I lounged around the house all day and forgot to eat. My stomach growls at me. I walk into the kitchen where I see Mr. Avocado sitting in a bowl like a fat man in a hot tub. I give it a squeeze. Yes, not as firm as he once was. Perfect for consumption. I place the avocado on the cutting board and stab it with a knife. I push all the way through to the seed and then proceed to spin the avocado slowly, splitting it like a coconut. There I find the huge seed. I tap it with my knife, it locks, I lift it, and release it from the womb. I take my spoon and scrape the creamy texture away from the leathery skin. I dump it into a bowl and dispose of the carcass. I crush the innards into a paste. Meanwhile, I place two innocent pieces of toast into my chrome heat chamber. Once I press the lever, an orange glow appears, as if I had just opened the gates of hell. Soon after the two pieces of toast pop up with excitement as if they couldn’t stand the excruciating heat any longer. I place them on a plate and lather them with the avocado paste I just made. Finally, I take my Trader Joe’s Everything But Bagel Sesame Seasoning Mix and sprinkle a little bit. I put it in my mouth and hear the crackle of the toast as my canines descend causing massive destruction in my mouth. The wreckage slowly seeps down my throat and falls into the bowels of my stomach. Only crumbs remain. I then let out a big belch. Damn, that was some good avocado toast!
