“As Yams McKenzie set down his bulbous, starchy body on the surface of the moon, he remembered his days as just a sprout in the ground.”
During the last stream, by the time we got to the prompt section, we were running low on time. The reason for that was because we’d spent a long time writing our submission to a story contest.
And now here I am, from the future, putting in our submission here. Its title is “Serving America’s Youth.” It’s about the complacency we have with corporate interests interfering with modern education in America. (It’s also one of my favorite stories we’ve written on stream.)
The buffet table was set.
As fitting for a meeting of important school dignitaries, only the finest appetizers were laid out. Warm eggplant caponata, butternut squash ravioli, petite baguette toasts with brie and thyme, Johnny from Miss Robinson’s third grade class sliced open with his intestines spilling out and throbbing, and bacon-wrapped water chestnuts.
Liberty Elementary’s gymnasium had never looked so fine.
“Hey, Mrs. Abtoir!” yelled Principal Mangel to the superintendent. “How are you?”
Mrs. Abtoir chuckled. “Oh, Tom. You don’t have to call me that here. There’s no kids around.”
Principal Mangel’s face burned and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, right. Sorry, Brenda. Force of habit.”
“Anywho,” she said, stabbing a piece of Johnny’s liver on her plate. “Is Liberty ready for this upcoming semester’s test prep? The State Standards will be here before you know.”
Principal Mangel clapped his hands together. “Everything is all set! We’ve managed to squeeze in an extra hour of practice tests each day for every grade. Had to shuffle things around a bit, cut some unnecessary stuff, but you know. It’s all for the benefit of the kids.”
“Of course, of course,” Superintendent Abatoir said. She licked Johnny’s greasy liver chunk off her fork and patted Principal Mangel on the back. After a few juicy chews she swallowed it down and gestured off to another group with her thumb. “Anywho, I’ve got to get mingling. See you at the quarterly evaluation, Tom!”
Relieved to have finished one stressful conversation, Principal Mangel marched over to the refreshments table. A woman in a white collared shirt with a black vest and tie stood behind it.
“Would you like a drink, sir?” she asked.
Principal Mangel eyed all the colorful options. “What do you have?”
“Well, if you’re in the mood for something light we have the champagne cocktail. Then there’s the margarita with lime if you’d like a bit of a fruit kick. We also just got in a fresh batch of fourth-grade Susie from the grinder. It’s a bit thick for some, but you can’t beat that starry-eyed aftertaste. And then there’s also the bottle of 1981 Publicité Détendre.”
Before Principal Mangel could decide, a hand gripped his shoulder. He turned and smiled in surprise. It was Mr. Boetcher, Pizza Hat’s corporate educational-ambassador, wearing a tie adorned with little pizza slices.
“Mr. Boetcher!” Principal Mangel said. “Glad you could come.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mr. Boetcher said, giving him a hearty handshake. “Gotta say, I’m looking forward to another year of serving nutritious lunches at Liberty Elementary. This year, we’ve got big plans for big, healthy changes. We’ve reduced the salt on our fries, and we’ve switched over to sugar-free carbonated beverages.”
“Glad to hear! I’m sure the kids will love it. And hey, I’m not above slipping into the cafeteria line and getting a slice of hot pepperoni every now and then either. The kids are nothing but giggles when I sit with them at the tables and eat. Great for bonding.”
Mr. Boetcher chuckled, his big belly bouncing. “Like I always say, nothing sticks people together better than cheese on pizza! But hey, quick question. We gonna get that Pizza Hat sign up and glowing in the cafeteria by the time school starts?”
“No worries, I have my best custodian on it.”
“Thanks, Tom!” Mr. Boetcher gave Principal Mangel a hearty smack on the side, reached over for a glass of Susie, and sipped it as he walked away.
Just then someone caught Principal Mangel’s eye. It was Mrs. Mae, the college admissions representative. Forgetting all about drinks for now, he strode up to her and cleared his throat.
“Mrs. Mae,” he said, catching her attention to turn around. “Do you mind if–”
“Excuse me, sir, madam,” came the voice of a waiter. He was holding a platter of appetizers. “Could I interest you in some baba ganoush? Perfect for dipping with second-grade Billy’s freshly-fried ears and fingers.”
His mind currently distracted by more important matters, Principal Mangel quickly grabbed an ear, dipped it in the thick yellow paste, and crunched down. Mrs. Mae did the same with a pinky finger. The waiter smiled at them both and continued his rounds.
“Principal Mangel!” Mrs. Mae exclaimed, wiping her hands and swallowing down the last bit of Billy’s fingernail. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”
“Yes, the College Bound Project,” Principal Mangel said. “Are you as excited as I am?”
Mrs. Mae spread out her fingers like fleshy fireworks. “Absolutely! As you know, there’s no greater predictor for a child’s success in life than starting down the college path early. If we can get them and their families saving sooner, then our loan company will be able to help them much more easily in the future.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Principal Mangel said. “Our goal is to get one-hundred percent of our kids into college, and it’s thanks to people like you that they’re able to afford that dream.”
Just then the doors to the gymnasium burst open, revealing a dozen angry parents stomping their way inside.
“Principal Mangel!” yelled the woman at front. “Atrocities are being committed at Liberty Elementary!”
The army of parents stormed right up in front of him. The woman leader thrust an accusatory finger at the principal.
“We’ve heard about what you’re doing to our children!”
Principal Mangel plastered a thick smile on his face. “I’m always happy to discuss school policy with parents. What is your concern regarding? I’m here to help.”
The woman took a deep breath and exhaled hot air all over the principal. “We’ve heard that… you’re serving unhealthy snacks in the school vending machines! Chocolate, processed cheese, ice cream. We don’t want that garbage polluting our kids’ bodies!”
Principal Palmer grinned. “No worries, everyone. Let me introduce you to Mr. Boetcher. He’s got some great plans toward a healthy future for all the kids at Liberty Elementary.”
After writing that, chat voted that we write this prompt based on this image of a potato landing on the moon:
Since we were a bit short on time, we only wrote 100-word stories. We wrote one together on stream, and some other viewers shared their own takes on the magnificent image:
Scroll down to read our story below, or watch it here,
as well as see some of chat’s takes on the picture.
One small step for potatoes, one giant leap for spud-kind. As Yams McKenzie set down his bulbous, starchy body on the surface of the moon, he remembered his days as just a sprout in the ground. Homegrown in the fields of Idaho, spending his days working hard to grow up strong, and his nights staring at that mysterious gray potato glowing in the sky. His mother, Taters McKenzie, had tried to mash his dreams of going into space, but this was no half-baked idea of his. He needed to do this, not just for himself, but for all the little tater tots out there, watching, hoping, and boiling with anticipation of their own.
As he wedged the flag into the ground, he remembered his father’s words that had appealed to him during the tuber-lant times: “Dreams… boil ’em, mash ’em, always see them through.”
If you want to join us and help write a story by trolling in chat, or share your own writing for feedback, then we’d love to have you. We stream on Twitch every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday at 7:30pm-11:30pm (U.S. Eastern Standard Time).
And you missed the stream, you can still watch them on the YouTube channel, or watch the full stream reruns.
Hope to see you next time, friend!
Scott Wilson is the author of the novel Metl: The ANGEL Weapon,
forthcoming March 2019.