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Cookie: A Short Story

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Thomas watched as Frankie pulled the pepperoni and cheese off his slice of pizza, and then held it in the air above Max’s head.
“I don’t like pepperoni and cheese!” grumbled Frankie.
“Well, then don’t eat it,” said Thomas, “I’ll take it.”
Thomas reached over and grabbed the toppings. He gave a pepperoni to Max, and then placed the rest on top of his slice of pizza. He now had a double cheese and pepperoni pizza, and Frankie, a piece of crust with pizza sauce. Thomas quietly laughed. Frankie could have eaten a piece of toast with ketchup on it and would have been perfectly happy, but not Thomas. He loved cheese, and without it, it wasn’t really pizza.
Thomas thought. If I was to be changed into a night creature by the witches, I would wish to …show more content…

He began nibbling on the different types. There was Cheddar, Swiss, Feta, and Blue cheese, Mozzarella, Parmesan, Provolone and Muenster.
Thomas licked his lips at the thought, but the thought he knew wasn’t how a true mouse would live. There would be dangers to avoid, cats, mousetraps, and even human’s! He would have to sneak cheese from a mousetrap without getting trapped, run from cats who only wanted him for dinner, and human’s who could easily squash him …show more content…

Thomas’s face grew stern. “Well, you can’t have any!”
Frankie stuck out his tongue, and then quickly turned on his heels and took off running down the street. Max darted after him disappearing into the crowd.
Thomas and his friends shot quick glances, and within seconds, they were running down the street after Frankie. They checked in the craft tents, the game tents and at every food vending truck. They ran down the street to the fire house that was temporarily made into a haunted house. There was no sign of Frankie. They ran down the street to the stage, where the Story Tellers were busy rehearing their parts. Still no sign of Frankie. They ran further down the street, all the way past the library and school, and then stumbled to a halt at a dead end.
Staring up, they could see a narrow path winding up through the thick forest. It was the path that led to Windy Gorge. A path that no one dared to enter.
Suddenly, they heard Max bark, but the bark wasn’t coming from the street, the bark was coming from inside the forest.
Woof, woof, woof.
Nicholas gulped, “You’re not going in there — are you Thomas?”
“Bu.. but what about the ghost witches?” cried Ricky. “They’ll never let us

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