Soap is not good eats

Once upon a time there was a woman. This woman was a little on the short side and had weird nails on her pinky toes that sort of made her toes look deformed if she let them grow too long. We’ll get back to her toes in a second, but right now, this isn’t a story about toes. It’s a story about soap. You see, this woman liked to make breakfast and lunch for herself and her husband so they could pack meals for the day. This was way healthier and cheaper than buying $7 sandwiches made of soggy DEATH. She made healthy breakfasts and lunches because she wanted them both to get old enough to scream things like, “You kids, get off my damn lawn!” And because she’s cheap. Very, very cheap.

So one day she got up to pack lunch, only she was a little tired that day, because she was getting old, and because Festergut isn’t going to kill himself, as cool as that cut scene would be. She was too tired to turn on the light, so she failed to notice that there was soap in the container she used to store her husband’s chili.

Then, tragedy struck: Her husband ate the chili and got a bit of a headache. No one is sure why he kept eating the chili even after realizing there was soap in it, but it’s probably because he thought soapy chili was made of magic. And because he didn’t think his wife would feed him soap, which was a fair assumption.

I know what you’re thinking: What about the toes?

I don’t know either. Forget I mentioned them.