Shelby the shell sighed contentedly as she was being shaped. "This feels good, like in your stories grandma. What hapens nex!" Grandma Fajita lay on a flat plate, getting ready to be served. She was one of the lucky few who had been set on a table, ready to be consumed, but had been taken back untouched and was able to tell the tale of what hapened in the big fancy room with people inside.

"Well... first you'll be made into a taco, or fajita, with some rice or salad beside you. And then... you will be placed on a flat surface... table was it? Well anyways, the people will multiply you, cutting you into smaller pieces, and then they will stab you..." "Grandma why! That scares me!" "So they can consume us faster, they say it only hurts a little."

As her grandma left, Shelby was stuffed with guacaumole. He was easy to like, pepper and onion chatted, and cheese.. was just cheese. He wanted all the attention, but Shelby knew! She was their protector, their shelltastic bed!

But wait... a round container... a cover... then darkness. A rumble... a cold feeling... (salad felt it first) and, moving? tomato, who was always fidgety and nervous, now screamed with teror, his skin flushing an almost white color. "Are we going to the dump! Are we being abducted! Why is it so cold! We're gonna diiiiiiie!!!

A slow stop... a knocking sound... two hands... and then... FREEDOM!

Different... but nice.

"Mmmm! Dad! This is the BEST Quesadilla EVER!!!"