Friends

You stop for a moment at Alberts words, not sure if you heard him right. "But... I'm a risk," you say, "And..."

"And your our Friend," says Albert, giving you a hug.

"But I may get you fat, or tank buffed, or worse," you say.

"Friends don't care about that," says Albert, a familiar statement. "Besides, it's partially our fault, we should be experimenting to find out exactly what causes what so things like this don't happen." he adds. "So now we know, when you cook, it multiplies."

You sniff a little. feeling grateful to have friends who will stand by you, even after this.

"You know, we could probably make a killing in the cookie market," says Fred, and you and Albert give him a glare. "What, it's true, bake a cookie and you have a full production line. Just saying."

"Joking aside, we just need to test things out and see what happens," says Albert, "And who knows, maybe you'll figure out something that lets you do the opposite."

"I'm pretty sure anything I do is going to have to do with excess," you say, remembering how the demon couldn't just slim you down before.

"You never know," says Albert, shrugging.

"Thanks," you say.

"So... Anyone have any ideas how to clean all this up?" Says Fred, as he picks up another piece of bacon and nibbling on it as he examines the left over pile.

"I'll get a broom," you say, determined to clean it all up since you are the one who caused it in the first place.

Written by an anonymous author

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