A Purple Gelatin sat on the server in the dining room watching the people eat Thanksgiving dinner. They ate turkey and gravy, biscuits and stuffing, yams and corn. One by one they finished eating. Dinner was over. Dirty plates were removed. Leftovers were wrapped. He could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. Excitement shot through him.
A woman brought out mugs. A man put a pumpkin pie on the table, then cheesecake, apple pie, toffee pudding and cookies. The man looked in Purple Gelatin’s direction. He walked over. Purple Gelatin shook in anticipation.
The man picked up the fruitcake that sat next to Purple Gelatin and placed it on the table. There was no more room. “Nooo!” bellowed Gelatin. The man jumped and knocked the fruitcake on the floor.
Purple Gelatin shrieked and screamed. He grew to two hundred times his original size. Purple Gelatin enveloped everything in the room except for the man, the toffee pudding, the fruitcake, and the server. The man he stuck to the top of the server with the toffee pudding. Then he picked up the fruitcake, dusted it off, and placed it next to him.