The Pickled Apocalypse of Pancake Island

The Pickled Apocalypse of Pancake Island by Cameron Pierce

Book: The Pickled Apocalypse of Pancake Island by Cameron Pierce Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cameron Pierce
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Humorous, Fantasy, Contemporary
FANNY WINTER FOD
     
     
     
    Fanny W. Fod had peanut butter lips, blueberry eyes, chocolate chip dimples, and hair softer than cinnamon. She lactated the most delicious maple beer in the universe, and she bottled and distributed her beer all around Pancake Island. The pancakes loved her beer. They savored it to the last drop. They would wave and call out, "Thank you, Fanny Fod!" They would cheer, "Hooray, we're so happy. Let's be happy forever. Let's hold a parade for happiness." And so the pancakes savored the beer of Fanny Fod and commenced their daily Ultra Yummy Happiness Parade.
    What they did not know was that Fanny Fod, the most beautiful pancake in the universe, felt sick inside her soul.
    It was nighttime on Pancake Island. The pancake sun snoozed in his bed of stars. His mustache glowed like a furry nightlight.
    Fanny Fod lay on her back on the roof of her green zucchini castle. Every pancake lived in a castle, but Fanny's was the only castle built out of zucchinis. However, this caused no jealousy among the pancakes. The others were happy with their potato castles. Potato castles were special too. As potato castles got older, they grew spuds that turned into other potato castles. After many years of living in potato castles, it was as if all the pancakes lived in one giant interconnected spud kingdom, except for Fanny Fod, because she chose to live alone.
    Fanny Fod, the most beautiful pancake on the island, lay on her back on the roof of her zucchini castle and stared out at the stars. She knew there were a lot of sad creatures in the universe. She wished she could help them. Maybe she could bottle her syrup and launch the bottles into outer space. Maybe, somewhere out there, a sad creature longed for monogamy, just like she did.
    Fanny Fod longed for a sad creature to love and make happy. She had been romantically involved with many pancakes, but the love between two happy creatures was just too sweet.
    Happiness was all she'd ever felt. She wondered what sadness was like. There must be something else, she thought. There must be something besides happiness. She knew something strange was happening for her to think this because everybody loved happiness and she loved happiness too. She was always happy, but some nights she wished she wasn't.
She pondered whether the Cuddlywumpus locked in the dungeon of her zucchini castle was affecting her in some way. Or maybe these strange thoughts and feelings -- nostalgia and longing for abstract or nonexistent things -- thoughts and feelings that were not exactly happy but resulted in happiness because she desired them -- maybe all pancakes experienced these things, just nobody talked about them.
    Maybe it was the Cuddlywumpus. She was afraid of the Cuddlywumpus. She was afraid some other pancake would find out about the Cuddlywumpus. The Cuddlywumpus was her big secret. She wondered if all pancakes had a big secret that they kept to themselves.
    Fanny Fod closed her eyes so she didn't have to look at the stars dancing around the sun's mustache anymore. She stood up with her eyes closed and groped her way to the zucchini spires. She rested her spongy elbows on the ledge. She leaned out, her eyes still closed. She wondered what would happen if she fell. If she jumped. It's all the same to fall or jump, she thought. Given the choice, though, between falling or jumping, I would jump every time. Too bad I am happy. If I were to jump, or even fall by accident, I would rise, because that's all I'm capable of. Happy things just rise. I could splatter to pieces amidst the pancake flowers in the front yard, and I would still be rising. Even when they are hitting bottom, happy things continue to rise. When you are happy, everything gets better all the time. Are things getting better for me, she wondered, or is this more of the same life?
     

PART TWO
     
     
    THE PICKLED DIARIES

ROCKET SHIP FOR SAD DAY PARTY
     
     
    Hello, my name is Gaston Glew.
    I felt suicidal this morning, so I

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