Marshmallow Juice – A Not So Children’s Children’s Story

14 Dec

Kirby was an only child. He was not only an only child, but he was a lonely child.

Kirby processed a talent that set him apart from the other children. A talent that most people, child and adult alike, not only marveled at, but feared as well.

Kirby could juice anything.

Kirby’s gift appeared when he was two years old. His Mother would give him those hard teething biscuits that tasted something like between cardboard and wet cardboard. If Kirby’s Mom turned her back for no longer than just a second, the biscuits would be liquefied puddles drizzling down his arms and forming a pool on the floor. Kirby could juice anything!

“Juice, Momma! Juice!” Kirby would squeal in delight and clap.

Kirby’s Mother was not so delighted. She was horrified.

“What is wrong with my child?” she could be heard confiding to her Mother. “What will the other Mom’s on the PTA say? Why can’t the doctors cure him? Will the other children make fun of him? What if he accidently juices the dog? What kind of freak of nature did my vagina birth?”

“Stop!” Grandma would reply. “You must hide this from the world. If the government finds out about this special child, they will want to run tests on him, make him a secret spy or something, make him juice terrorists! Hide him, hide poor little Kirby!”

And that’s what happened. Kirby lived a life of solitude, away from other children, away from other adults, away from dogs and cats and birds. Away from the world!

Kirby’s Mother would only allow him to play with and/or eat Marshmallows.

Why Marshmallows?

Because it was the one thing Kirby’s Mother determined he could not juice. And Kirby could not! No matter how hard he tired!

Kirby could not juice a Marshmallow.

But this did not make Kirby sad, as one would think. No! This made Kirby determined. And Kirby became very, very, very determined.

At the very tender age of seven, Kirby decided his life’s goal was to juice a Marshmallow. And it didn’t matter how long it would take, and no forces of man or nature would stop him.

Kirby would go off into the woods bright and early every morning with a bag of Marshmallows, and every night he would return home with that same bag of Marshmallows…un-juiced.

He did this for 47 years.

Kirby saw his Grandmother pass away in this time, as well as his Mother. He buried them in the woods next to his favorite Marshmallow practice juicing spot. It was on his 54th birthday that Kirby sat weeping at his Grandmother’s and Mother’s grave, in the pouring rain, with a bag of Marshmallows, and screamed at the top of his lungs,

“Why in dear god’s name and all that is holy and unholy can’t I juice a Marshmallow? I don’t want to live anymore! I have wasted so much…..time!”

It was at this precise point that a bolt of lighting hit Kirby square on top of his head, sending a wave of intense mother nature driven electricity down his body, and through his hands which were holding the bag of Marshmallows. Kirby’s body stiffen from the shock of electricity coursing through him. Smoke billowed in puffs from his ears. But more importantly, Kirby now held a bag of Marshmallow juice.

Kirby opened his mouth to say, “Oh my god,” but only a whiff of smoke came out instead.

Then Kirby keeled over and died.

About a week later the police found Kirby’s body and the bag of Marshmallow juice. The Marshmallow juice was quickly sealed up in a steel crate and sent to the Smithsonian Institute for further study. Some say it never made it there. Others say it’s stored under ground in a secret vault along with the Ten Commandments, Al Capone’s secret treasure, and the very first VHS copy of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Some say the government has it, and they are experimenting with it, just as Kirby’s Mom feared.

Whatever the case maybe, Kirby fulfilled his life long dream, but the world will never know of it. The world will never know of….Marshmallow juice.

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