Trevor the Burrito

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another pun-filled story I wrote with my friend Jack. Racism, Puns, and other horrible jokes you'll just love.

Submitted: July 18, 2013

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Submitted: July 18, 2013

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Today was the worst day of my life. My name is Trevor; I live in a country filled with tacos, and my friends were making fun of me because my meat cheese hasn’t fully developed yet. For you see, I am a burrito living, in the world of tacos.

Today was the first day of my junior year in Enchilada high school. I’m an exchange student from Burritoslavia. My family was the poorest of Burritoslavia, so they thought it was best to send me here in Hardshellia. I’m currently living with a rich Taco family who hates me for my race. The conditions here are worse than back in Burritoslavia, mainly because the food is always right there, yet I cannot eat it because my host parents will not let me. Many people try to change this because they see that a handsome burrito such as myself has to go through this turmoil. I don’t see an issue with it, since I’m pretty much used to it because of the horrible conditions in Burritoslavia since the war. During the war we were forced to only eat scraps of lettuce. The food was so scarce to get even the littlest bit of human flesh was nearly impossible, and if any showed it was torn asunder by the ravenous burritos. Although here the flesh is abundant, the human farms here do very well as the humans breed like chicken quesadillas.

Unfortunately my host tacos will not allow me to eat, so when they aren’t looking I wander into the kitchen and the kind Nacho maid cooks me up a nice human steak. She is always so nice to me unlike the tacos probably because she is also a more delectable minority. This was the problem; the family did not want me to have an enjoyable time in Hardshellia. So when my host taco brothers spotted the nacho maid feeding me they immediately told there parents. The two taco brothers, Renaldo and Keanu were the meanest of the Tacoverde family. A family of vegetarian tacos, those all vegetable and cheese tacos are the oldest and most racist of the entire taco nation. The Tacoverdes kicked me out of the house faster than the blink of a tortilla. Day one was over and I was already living on the streets of Hardshellia. I was scared, alone no one was beside me to tell me that I was delicious. I slept that night reduced to grease.

 

**********

 

The next morning I awoke to a familiar smell, smelled like, human soup! One of my favorite human dishes. I hopped around the corner and walked inside a Rice food place. Rice always knew how to cook the perfect chinamen, always making them the perfect mix of sweet and spicy. The brown rice at the front desk looked at me oddly and said-

“What you want wet back?”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“You heard me Spicy Gonzalez, what you do in my store?”

“Oh, I just smelt human soup; I haven’t eaten a proper meal in days.”

“So what I suppose to do about it guacamole?” Rice was always a very rude food.

“Nothing I guess.” I went to leave when I heard another brown rice voice yell at her husband. I went to continue out the door when the brown rice woman called to me.

“You wait right there I get chu nice human soup!” she then again began to curse her husband out in the ricenese language.

“Thank you miss.” I said sincerely, and then sat down in one of the booths.

“You want mint?”

“What?” I couldn’t understand.

“I say you want mint?”

“What?”

“I SAY YOU WANT MINT?”

“What? Oh, a mint?”

“Yes mint! You deaf?” scowled the ricenese man.

“No… no I don’t want a mint thank you.” I sat for a short time and just looked into the kitchen noticing only one person was cooking back there, so I decided to approach the counter.

“Um, excuse me sir.”

“Yes? What you want?”

“Would you need an extra hand in the kitchen? I can cook pretty well and maybe you could rent me out a room if I work for it?”

“Hm…” contemplated the old grain. “I tell you what short-bread; you get out store right now I not kill you.” I stared at him in confusion and then he bent down behind the counter.

“Sir?”

“What I tell you burrito, get hell out my store!” He pumped a shot gun and shot into the air, I ran out the shop and didn’t stop. All of a sudden, I woke up. It all felt like it was a dream. Felt as if, I had a bite taken out of me. I looked on the ground in front of me, and saw my delicious sauces dripping out of my body. My forebread was leaking and pain swelled through me. Before I had another chance to think, a giant hand penetrated the sky above me grabbing me tightly, I could feel my meat slipping out of my bottom, as he bit down hard into my soft shell. I could feel my self slowly going down his throat into his gullet, I guess my fate was sealed. I was slowly digested, my proteins absorbed, and the useless bits of my delicious personality, turned, into crap.

 


© Copyright 2020 Tucker Haase. All rights reserved.

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