Chronicle XXVII

Chunky Muffin fled the bakery, at long last escaping his captors. He ran down the sidewalk wildly, as if being chased. Wind scraped off a few crumbs from his back, which then landed on the ground, sprouted a wrapping and faces of their own before being scooped up and eaten by pedestrians who just dodged Chunk barreling past them. The muffin man turned a corner and backed up against a wall to catch his breath, many blocks from the bakery. He looked to his side and realized the building he was using as cover was a pawn shop.

A classic revolver was on display behind the counter inside the store. It was exactly why Chunky Muffin went there. He pointed up at the gun and looked into the eye of the shop owner, who somehow was unfazed by the pastry’s presence.

“And how are you planning to pay for that?”

“I don’t have any form of currency, kind sir. I can, however, pay you in muffins.”

The shopkeeper plucked off a couple of pieces of Chunky Muffin’s crust and waited a moment as they grew into two large, sentient muffins. He ate one of them and then looked at the other one cruelly. “You work for me now.” He left the wrapper of the other muffin beside this one and told it to clean up the mess.

“Here you go.”

“You have my eternal gratitude.” Chunky Muffin bowed gently and tucked the gun in the back of his wrapper-pants. He stepped outside the store cautiously and checked around for the baker and her cat. Nowhere to be seen.

Down the street, Beefatron was running as a ravenous hoard amassed behind him. Each time someone reached the meaty monster, their first physical contact with it would cause them to be fully absorbed into it. However unwilling to harm people Beefy was, it was his nature. Nobody could resist the succulent attraction from the beef lord and he was designed to take in all organic material and use it to become the supreme food source.

Chunky Muffin walked through a group of young trouble makers carelessly.

“HEY. Wait up big muffin.” the leader called out.

“Chunky Muffin.” the confection issued a correction.

“Alright, THICK BOI.” the kids jested, circling Chunk. “Where’d you come from?”

“I’m not certain of that myself.”

“Does this hurt?” one of the ruffians grabbed a piece of Chunk’s face.

“Not at all.” Chunky Muffin smiled.

“What about this?” the leader kicked him right between the legs.

“Yes. My wrapper seems to be very sensitive.”

“Oh, so we gotta go for the wrapper.” one of them said, yanking down the wrapper, exposing a soft and pale undercarriage.

“Look at that!” they all laughed.

“Please, stop.” Chunky Muffin requested. This only served to infuriate the crew, who then banded together to push him over and roll him into the street.

“Let’s kick him until a car comes.” the leader suggested, and they did so.

Chunky Muffin curled into a ball and wept, considering grabbing his gun but wishing no violence upon anyone. All the crumbs that kept coming out of him fled as they became sentient - some were stomped out by the gang. He wondered for a moment if this world would consist of constant fleeing from danger and torture. None of them noticed that they rolled him directly in front of Beefatron’s path. The meat machine fell over him and absorbed all the kids harassing him. He kept rolling and got covered in the crumbs lying around, which expanded in his meaty pores. The mass of people chasing simply came to their senses as the tiny muffins forming on Beefatron’s delicious exterior dampened the powerful aroma it gave off. As the street emptied, Chunky Muffin helped Beefatron up and brushed him off.

“The pieces that came off your body stopped those people from getting eaten by my body.” Beefatron smiled.

“Well, that’s excellent news.” Chunk replied happily.

The two held hands and walked down the street together. Best friends forever.