Part of a Nutritious Breakfast
I walk into the kitchen to see my best friend Ross with his bare feet resting on the table.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?”
I see his sly grin as he licks the spoon. I notice the blue bowl that sits between his feet.
“No no no no no,” I start to panic, hoping that he hasn’t eaten the ONE thing in this kitchen he knows is not allowed. I open the cupboard and find the cereal box missing. I then check the recycling in the garage and find the evidence that confirms my worst fear. My dad has been working on an experimental cereal that could increase a man’s testosterone, slow the ageing process, and promote healthier lifestyles. At least, this was the goal. So far, my dad hasn’t been able to get the cereal to work properly, so its effects are largely unpredictable.
I walk back into the kitchen as I hear Ross start to groan. I look at him, and then at his feet. In the past minute I was gone, his feet seem to have grown a bit. Typically, Ross sports a size 8 foot, small but in proportion to the rest of his smaller body. Now, by the looks of it, I would assume he’s got a pair of 10s.
“Ross what were you thinking? You know you’re not allowed to eat that cereal!”
“I know I know, but I just couldn’t help it. Look man, I’m tired of the girls at school dissing me for being short. I thought that maybe this would help me become more like one of the jocks.”
“Well yeah maybe it would’ve done that if it worked properly, but my dad hasn’t made a successful batch yet. Who knows what this could do to you!”
I can’t help but to grab my friend’s toes. I bring my hands down to the balls of his feet, they are warm to the touch and soft. I can feel the veins in his feet pulse with each second my hand touches them. They continue to grow as they have been while Ross and I argued. By now, his feet are a size 13. If he were wearing socks, there’s no doubt they would’ve been demolished by this point. I hear Ross groan again, followed by a surge in his feet. I start to feel something furry beneath my fingers. The tops of his feet have begun to sprout some hair. For some reason, I find myself unable to let go of his feet. A sort of energy and interest keeps my hands firmly locked onto his feet even as they are pushed apart by his widening souls.
“How big are they?” Ross asks with a low growl of pain.
I rub my thumb down the middle of his wide soles, “I’m not sure, maybe size 17 now?”
“Nungh, you were right dude, this cereal didn’t make me into a hunk, it’s turning me into a freak!”
Ross lets out another loud groan, I fear my parents may here him. I watch as his toes flex and splay in the air, followed by a cracking sound coming from deep inside his muscular feet. His feet lurch out in all directions growing wider, longer, and even hairier. In seconds his feet grow to an amazing, what I assume is, size 22 pair of boats. Ross lets out a curse, as I find myself mesmerized by the humongous feet in front of my face. Something within me possess an urge I have never felt before. The next thing I know, my mouth engulfs his thick hairy toes. My friend’s feet, where before had been unimpressive, now had control over my mind. As I worshiped his godly feet, all I could think about was how my life will forever be changed thanks to my friend’s foolish, but incredible, desire.
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