File type: Text File (.txt) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
Peppered Pickle

I stood at my kitchen counter on a winter afternoon. I’d been there for about 20 minutes, making myself something to eat. Now, 20 minutes might have been acceptable… for something I had to heat up.

Alas, I was attempting to make a simple sandwich, deliberating on the ingredients for far too long. I had settled on roast beef, mozzarella, lettuce, mayonnaise and… potato chips? Eh, it’d probably be good. Sure. I was officially ready to season my sandwich. A little bit of salt, and some pepper…

…well, that wasn’t enough pepper. More pepper. Even more. Still not enough. Just a little bit more, and… perfection. Finally, a sandwich. Now, hopefully this thing tastes good! With no further hesitation, I finally took a bite of my masterpiece, and…

…it tasted strongly of pepper. Very strongly of pepper. In fact, the pepper was all that I could taste… ack! I put way too much pepper on that sandwich! I ended up coughing over the garbage can for the next few minutes, finally able to breathe again once the spice was no longer dominating my senses. I set the sandwich down on the counter and put a hand on my stomach, feeling a bit sore from all that. I sighed. “I guess I’m not cut out to be a chef…”

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden feeling of tightness on my feet… my sandals were quickly changing shape and hue. The soles remained black, but the rest shifted to a desaturated brown color. Rings of yellow surrounded the tops of the shoes, as matching laces weaved their way in and out of the rubber. I look down at my new footwear in confusion, though the tightness seemed to have stopped. Why was I suddenly wearing boots?! “…what the hell?”

I was briefly thrown off balance as my legs lengthened ever so slightly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I just got taller. Surely that wasn’t possible… right? As if to challenge that very thought, my shorts underwent their own set of changes.

Not only were my bottoms changing in hue, but they seemed to be lengthening as well! The drawstring of my shorts disappeared, and the fabric changed to something thicker- and definitely more suited to the colder weather than my previous attire. “Well, it’s… warmer, at least. I can’t complain about that… I was getting a little chilly.”

My shirt and torso seemed next to change, and that now familiar tightness constricted my chest and stomach this time around. The sleeves of my plain t-shirt quickly elongated, purple cuffs appearing below the wrists, matching my pants. Down the middle of my shirt, the fabric splits up to my collar- said collar popping up to form the collar of a dress shirt. Though my shirt was done changing, the ensemble was still incomplete.

Some parts of my shirt bulged outwards, signifying that there were more garments coming overtop. One of these was a purple tie, tied somewhat loosely around my neck. The other was a yellow puffy vest, with the emblem for my school emblazoned on my left- wait… I graduated more than a year ago! That’s… an odd thing to get confused over, but it seems like my wardrobe reconstruction is finally over. Of course, my face still remained unchanged.

Before I can process my new fit, I’m startled by a lock of brown and blond hair flopping down in front of my right eye, nearly throwing me off balance again. As the rest of my hair grows out, I flinch at the foreign sensation of hair brushing against my neck. “GAH!” One thing after another… I quickly brush the hair out of my eyes… I blink a few times, my eyes stung a bit as their color changed to blue.

The hair on top of my head wasn’t the only new hair growth- my eyelashes were also noticeably more defined now. My sideburns and eyebrows, though already somewhat bushy, now appeared as if they were carefully groomed… I could vaguely remember some kind of grooming routine… though that recollection is definitely foreign, as I previously had no regard for such things.

What didn’t stick around, however, was my patchy beard. A free shave is a free shave, I suppose- regardless of whether or not it‘s a result of spontaneous transformation. The rest of my face soon followed suit, dropping some of its chubbiness to better fit with the new features. My new form seemed both familiar and unfamiliar… though I hadn’t quite processed the extent of it yet.

I needed to check a mirror. I nervously walked towards the bathroom, slapping myself in the face on both sides to psych myself up for what I might see in my reflection. Hesitantly, I step into the bathroom, eyes closed. I manage to force my eyes open, finally meeting the gaze of my reflection… “Arven???”

…what even caused this? Some kind of divine intervention over my horrendous sandwich-making? Is this is supposed to be a punishment of some sort..? I… can’t say this is the worst thing that could’ve happened. This is definitely preferable to losing a lung to all that pepper that I… why did I put that much pepper on there, anyways? Actually… let me try that again.

Once again, I stand at my kitchen counter. I knew what to do this time around- my ingredient choices were the same as before- roast beef, mozzarella, lettuce, mayonnaise and… potato chips. It was weird, but there was promise. First off, this thing needed more sauce- balsamic vinegar would add a nice twinge of smokiness…

…and now for the salt and pepper. This time I made sure to spread out the seasonings evenly, pouring a generous- but not excessive- amount of pepper. I would rather not find out what would happen if I botched yet another sandwich. This one had to be perfect- so I made sure to put my all into it.

I took a while to admire my creation… it certainly smelled a lot better than my previous attempt. Looked like less of a mess, too. I was feeling pretty good about this one, but there was no way to know for sure until I tried it. I took a bite of my new masterpiece, and…

…it tasted good. Very good. In fact, this was the best sandwich I’d ever eaten! It was hard to believe, but I’d actually ended up creating a sandwich worth eating! I finished up my sandwich, barely even stopping to catch my breath. I set the plate down on the counter and wiped my forehead, feeling a lot better having finally had my lunch. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Maybe I’m not actually too bad at this whole chef thing…”