Potatoes Grow in Dirt

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Mrs. Miller tripped on a shoe as soon as she entered her house. She already knew what she would find in the hall as she walked around the minefield of shoes and socks.

Her stinky thirteen-year old was sprawled on the couch. A scrunched-up bag of chips, a soda can and a greasy takeout container waited like soldiers for their next orders on the floor.

Mrs. Miller’s head felt like a pressure cooker about to blow. “Zachary Miller! Look at this mess! It’s like we live inside a trash can! And have you showered today? You’ll have potatoes growing out of your skin!”

Zac rolled his eyes. “Please, Mom. I’m thirteen, remember?” 

“And clean your room! It’ll soon be teeming with Gargantuants!”

“Mom! I’ll clean it tomorrow. And please, enough of your silly stories!” He sank deeper into the cushions.

Mrs. Miller walked away. It was useless.

Seconds later, the floor rumbled and lights flickered. Static buzzed on TV.  Something monstrous was moving under the wood floor.

“Mom?” Zac stood up. 

Two red, hairy tentacles gripped his feet. Zac screamed. “Mom!!” His eyes widened in horror as a monster ant reached for his jugular.

“Yum, another dirty kid!” The Gargantuant clapped its tentacles as it slurped Zac’s entrails. “They always taste like potatoes.”