Stan heard his belly growl. With what just happened to him, how could
he be hungry? But he was. Besides, he decided not to encounter miss
turn-him-into-a-chair anytime soon.
He started off to the kitchen to meet the cook. Babbett was there,
looking at a cook book, the recipe for homemade pizza right on the
front page.
Good, Stan loved pizza!
"Babbett," He called to her. "One, I think Fiona is weird, and two,
could you make me a pizza?"
"Wi wi sir." She said happily. "You arrived in ze nic of time, az it
vere." She went and got a HUGE mallet.
"Ummm..." Stan said, seeing her come over with it. "What is that for?"
"For dis, sir!" she said, and slammed the mallet onto him! He eeped
once as his whole body was flattened. How was it possible?
Moreover, in his mind, he was screaming. THIS WAS NOT HAPPENING AGAIN!!!!"
"Mmmmfm mfmfmffm mmmpphphh!" he screamed under the mallet. As it was
lifted, his face was all that could be seen, flattened out on top of
the squished Stan.
"Hmmm... no, too tick for pizza..." She said, lifting him up off of
the floor. She set him on the counter, and looked in the cook book.
"CHANGE ME BACK!" He said. But she chuckled some.
"Not to vorry, sir. It won't hurt a bit." She looked in her cook book
and decided to make Stan into...