Jeff woke up with a start. Wait, wasn't he dead? No, he was alive. But how? He had been stuck by lightning while attempting to climb the fence of the asylum. There had been a few seconds of agonizing pain, and then...nothingness.
He must have been dead, because he was in the morgue. But he was breathing, he had to be alive! Maybe he was a zombie? His head hurt, as it always did when he attempted to think hard. Gee, everything looked a lot bigger than he remembered. He felt different too. He got up, and quickly discovered that he could no longer walk on his hind legs very well, so he hunched over and crawled along. He noticed he also a second pair of arms. He also felt a tail dragging behind him. What had that lightning done to him?! His head hurt again. He had to see what he looked like now.
He leapt onto the coroner's desk, and looked into his reflection on the cell phone. Strange, his face didn't LOOK any different. Was it all in his head? Was it all a dream? He hoped so. Suddenly, Jeff heard the door open. He squeezed inside the coroner's lunch cooler and hid inside a Tupperware container full of mashed potatoes. The coroner picked up his lunch and took it to the lounge to microwave it. When he saw the huge, white, hairy-headed maggot asleep in his now half-eaten mashed potatoes, he freaked out and instantly threw the whole thing away.
As it turns out, they were taking out the garbage that day, and it was also the day when the garbage truck arrived. The garbage was loaded in and they drove off to their next stop, Blah City. At this stop (in the suburbs) the garbagemen didn't notice that one peice of trash had fallen out of the truck, and was now lying in the street.
Jeff woke up again. It was very dark, and smelly. He used his stinger to slit open his plastic prison. He looked around. A garbage truck rumbled away in front of him. He crawled out of the street, and into a nearby bush.
The next day, As Sam Unkler was trimming his bushes, he thought he heard a faint hiss coming from the other side. He went to investigate it, and there was nothing there. Little did he know that while he was distracted, Jeff had jumped onto his glove and crawled up his arm, onto his shoulder.
When Sam returned his tools to the shed, he felt some sort of tiny animal bite him on the back of his neck. He swatted at it, but once again there was nothing there. Was this summer heat making him lose his mind?! He figured it was just a no-see-um or something.
Over the following weeks, Sam's family noticed odd changes in his behavior. He had trouble concentrating, he slurred his words, his IQ dropped like a rock, and most importantly, he was becoming obsessed with potatoes. Janet, his wife, decided she had to call a doctor about this. But when she tried, she saw the cord had been cut. A steel IKEA spork lay by it.
"We wouldn't like that," she heard Sam say, right behind her. Janet spun around, and screamed at what she saw. This...thing was no longer her husband. He now had snow-white skin, long, greasy black hair, bulging, blue-tinted eyes that stared into space, long claw-like fingernails and an impossibly wide grin filled with jagged, sharp teeth. "We wouldn't like that at all." He hefted a gigantic spoon over his head, preparing to bash her over the head with it. The very last thing she heard was "GO. TO. POTATO."
Written by Furbearingbrick.