Category : Stories

Sub Category : Comedy

     I remember a time when a steak was just a steak and Drew was just an actress, acting like everyone else but burdened with a dark secret she was unaware of. Unfortunately, every full moon she cannot touch anything with her hands because whatever she touches turns into a salisbury steak of the same size object that she touched. One night, her friend was trying to have a serious conversation with her and her friend took Drew's hand in her own and plop, her friend was a steak on the floor, all salisbury like and nicely gravied, not too much but she wasn't dry either, a human sized piece of steak with a cute little face on it that was all steaky smiles. It was so delectable that the dog began to eat her friend slowly, sloppily lapping up the human steak tidbits as the dog's eyes rolled back in ecstacy. 
     Drew was so confused so she picked up the phone to call 911 and the phone turned into a steak and she screamed and fell back to the ground and then her floor was a thin yet deliciously spacious salisbury steak. She called out to someone, anyone for help and the tenant next door came over and he saw the steak floor. “Did you go through my laundry because I'm missing underwear and the are a lot of steaks in my dryer”, he said. 
     Drew was at a loss. She did go through his laundry but that was earlier in the day. Could everything she touched have turned to steak or was it just some things? 
     She went to her apartment and literally everything was a steak where she left it. Her closet was a giant steak closet with steak hangers and steak dresses and steak bras hanging with salisbury coating dripping off. Her toilet was a steak toilet gurgling with gravy. Her car was still a car but was salisblessed with a steak engine. Her life was becoming a pile of steak and suddenly she heard her friend's voice from beyond the salisbury which was really coming from her dog's colon which had somehow absorbed her friend's spirit through digestion. 
     “I am one with this dog now Drew, and it's helping me communicate through its colon," said her salsburied friend's spirit. Confused to the max at this point, all Drew could hear and smell were a series of tight little squeaks and farts since colons don't generally talk well but she could somehow translate the meaning, poor by poot. Drew was now thinking about what gave her dog's colon this special ability. It was the salisbury for sure.

To be continued.....