Chomp'd

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Susan Berran. Chomp'd

The Author

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But it was all going to be worth it. Anything to get out of this ‘wart on a Pig’s butt’ town called Agnath. Even if it was only going to be for the shortest amount of time, it was going to be better than nothing at all.

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Inside the store it was dull and quiet with the smell of mildew and mould hanging over it. The windows were so grotty that there was barely any light able to come through them at all. I scanned the store, starting to wonder if it really was open for business, or whether the sign was still just hanging there from a hundred and fifty years ago. Cobwebs hung all about the room, like delicate silk chandeliers, heavy with dust and the sucked-out hollow corpses of moths and blowflies, decorating them like disgusting Christmas ornaments. On the few shelves that were still unbroken, stood cans of food with really faded, worn and tatty labels in some weird foreign language. So I kinda figured that if we went by the faded pictures on the cans, then it seemed that the shop probably had plenty of ‘Camel Stomach Casserole’ and ‘Goat Buttocks Soup’ and a few tins of ‘Fish-Eye Chocolate Pudding’.

Dad was just about to order some fish and chips for lunch … until he saw the dead rat frozen in the brick of yellowy fat in the deep fry basket . . . and I could swear I saw it blink. Freaky!

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