Stocked with all the ingredients for making a delicious big green salad, Michael Schlimazl and Jacob Schlemihl walked into their office on Amsterdam Avenue. While Jacob was cutting the cucumbers, Michael took the lettuce out of the bag, but it fell from his hands, or maybe it jumped, and rolled and rolled and rolled and… was accelerating! The more he chased it, the faster the lettuce rolled. It even weaved left and right to bypass the furniture, not forgetting to activate the turn signal for each side. Such behaviour, as anyone who is familiar with vegetables will know, is most unbecoming of a lettuce. If we were talking about a steak, it would be a completely different matter. (At a certain restaurant in Greenwich Village, Michael was once served a steak so undercooked that it spat at him when it was being seasoned to then sneak away.) Suddenly, the lettuce rose to its feet, almost reaching the ceiling. It was provided with two tentacles, bulging lips, and threatening glassy eyes. “TI TI TI TI TI TI TI TI TI TI TI,” it yawped sticking out its lubricious tongue with which it licked the voluptuous lips; and then let out a salacious moan.Definitely, this was not the typical behavior of a vegetable, but rather that of a member of the animal kingdom. (In fact, both the thing’s lewd advances and its overall appearance reminded Michael of Mrs. Witowsky from the 17th floor). “The devil’s spawn!” yelled Jacob, who apparently thought the thing to be more in tune with the monstrosity kingdom. “We better forget about salad, I’m going to get a pizza!” And he rushed towards the front door followed by Michael, who wanted to choose the pizza for himself. However, when they opened the door they found themselves nose-to-nose with a strange looking woman who was about to ring the bell.”What’s the rush about?” she said.”Stand back, Mrs. Witowsky, a lettuce is chasing us!””You mean that lettuce?” And she pointed to an ordinary, harmless, round lettuce lying in the middle of the hall behind them.A little later, Michael and Mrs. Witowsky were bent over the lettuce, examining it carefully. “And you say this lettuce tried to rape you?” Mrs. Witowsky busted out as she wiped away the bubbling greenish spittle that constantly poured out of her mouth. “Well, you never know where the danger might come from,” she added giggling. And as if echoing her words, suddenly Jacob burst into the office brandishing a fireman’s hatchet. “By Ctulthu!” Mrs. Witowsky exclaimed as Jacob pounced on the lettuce. But she had no time for anything else before the axe struck the vegetable. At that very moment, a torrent of viscous green blood gushed from Mrs. Witowsky’s head like oil flowing out of a pipeline’s leak.

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