ANONYMOUS
Guest Scallywag
Behold, I am the one with a tasty, delectable pasta for Fingers. You cannot escape me. I am real, and I am here, right behind you!
My Fingers are soft yet slippery, in a square shape, like how the horrible fettuccine is prepared. When noon arrives, I use my Fettuccine stained Fingers to eat some lunch.
What lunch, you may ask? Not pasta, no, that would be cannibalism. My Fingers yearn for only one food: Carrot cake.
The taste of a carrot cake makes them tingle. The Fettucine Fingers CURSE me if I do not eat carrot cake.
Thank you, The Leader, for giving my Fingers a platform to tell you just how GROSS and INCREDIBLE they are. I truly love them and they HATE me. But they must stay with me forever, as they are my Fingers.
Some try to taste my Fingers. “NO!” I say. NO! Those who get a lick are only left to realize the horrible curse of having fettuccine for fingers.
The Fingers beckon, I must go. Do NOT taste them.