The Royal Poison Inspector

“Eat it Michael, eat the scrap.”

The hall, a table splayed out with food and noble ancestry awaits the young boy.

“But it looks yuck…”

“How will we know if it’s poisoned?”


“Right then, eat.”

He scoops the fork of baked cherries into his mouth. But, the taste was not there. It hadn’t been for so long as he had eaten every food the king or any of his other affiliates wanted to eat. Everything was bland now.

The moist food squirmed around in his mouth as his tongue tried to hold it in place; the texture was mushy and the cherries burst open like eyeballs. He squirmed and twisted in his seat.

“Good job Michael!! Everyone, toast to him for he has cleared our dessert!”

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