The Cookie
I don't know where I was going with this. I was bored and felt like a poet today, so I hope you enjoy this crappy story about a journey for cookies!
"Keep up! Come on!" shouted the fox. "Put on your socks, pup! Before they're all gone!" The fox, named Dale, was wimpy and frail. But he had a look of whimsy and shale--well, for a male. The cookie jar was open, high on the shelf. Instead, it was broken, so he thought to himself. The smell of chocolate for which his taste buds yearned, deep in his gut his cravings have churned. He wondered how to get there, to feast on the treats, not only to share, but for his liking to sweets. "Gimme a minute!" the pup had shouted, for one shoe he scouted, his paw he fit in it. The pup known as Chip, was bigger than Dale. His biceps could rip a head off a nail. "How should we do this?" asked Dale with a whimper. Chip suggested with a hiss, "We can build a ladder." Dale looked around the room and saw chairs around the table. "We'll use the chairs and a broom. That looks quite stable!" "I like your style," remarked Chip with a smile. The furs spent hours creating a ladder, the top really skinny and the bottom somewhat fatter. Chip fit the broom to hold everything in place at the bottom where Dale steadily held the base. "Are you ready to climb?" Chip asked as he grunted. "I guess it's time..." Dale's words were corrupted. The fox began on the first chair, the pup holding on with intensifying care. Dale began to ascend, his legs already shaky. He called to his friend, "If I fall, please save me!" Dale huffed and winced as he climbed and climbed, his courage unconvinced, although his speed had mimed. He dared not look down, for he could now see the cookies. The furs cheered like a clown. Not bad for two rookies. The fox grabbed the jar, ready to climb down. "Do you know how far I am from the ground?" "Don't worry," answered the pup. "Just hurry! And keep looking up!" The fox's legs quivered again, making his way back to the floor. As he made his descend, his feet felt sore. "Ow, a splinter!" the fox cried out, kicked out of kilter, his arms flailing about. Dale continued to wail, falling to the floor. With his body so frail, it was his end for sure. He finally landed, but it wasn't his doom. It was Chip in the room, doing what was demanded. He caught Dale with grace, out of the blue. "Whoa! I caught you!" said the pup with a shocked face. The fox blushed with the jar hugged at his chest. "Th-- thank you," he rushed. "You are the best!" The furs sat on the kitchen counter, high-fiving each other. "I can't believe that was such a bother," the fox huffed with a scour. Chip chuckled, peering at the makeshift ladder, baffled. "If only the base were flatter." Reaching in the jar to
take out his prize, Dale smiled and took a bite. Dread filled his eyes, his fist crushing the cookie in spite. "Ew!" he said, his face brazen. "This isn't chocolate! This is raisin!"