Mashed Potato!

A Glen Passman Short Story

Dennis the Potato didn't feel well. His slaughter was due. It was only a matter of time before he was boiled or fried, or even worse, was to meet his doom at the demonic grasp of the dreaded POTATO MASHER! (Bolts of atmospheric lightening.) He would have thrown up, save the fact that he didn't possess a mouth. He had to plan his escape from almost certain destruction. Somehow, he had to come up with an award-winning idea which had no obvious use for limbs, as he failed to own any. Then it came over him like a case of potato blight. He would wait until doomsday...

The day of his execution came. Dennis the Kamikaze Potato was prepared and ready for action. He was being brought from his cell with the other potatoes and was on his way to be strip-searched. It was time. Dennis heroically jumped from the top of the Group 4 holding box and onto the linoleum-clad floor below. He was bruised but it didn't matter, he was making his burst for freedom. He used the momentum gained by the fall to roll out of the door and into a life of freedom.

Dennis felt jubilant. It had taken a lot of planning but it worked. He rolled beneath the front gate into the street and onto the trunk road, where he ironically rolled beneath the wheels of a long distance lorry from the Continent and ended up mashed anyway. Being a potato, he didn't know his Green Cross Code and thus became a bit of a road hazard. Puts a bit of a downer on the story, really.