Molly writes under the pen name M. Allman. If you would like to read more of her work, you can find her books on Amazon Kindle.
In the refrigerator milk carton noticed an odd odor. He inspected the shelves and saw onion lying in his zip lock bag. “Onion, you are the cause of the odor,” He demanded.
"It’s not me,” Onion cried. “I’m wrapped so tight I can hardly breathe. “ He rolled over to tuna fish sandwich. “It has to be tuna fish. She always smells bad.”
“I beg your pardon,” Tuna fish said. “I was made fresh an hour ago for a sack lunch.” She tipped her bag to observe the other foods. “It’s meatloaf. He’s leftover from last night’s dinner.”
Meatloaf opened his lid. “It’s not me. I’m only a day old.” He looked over the shelves. “It’s lettuce. She’s turning brown. Lettuce rolled up her leaves.
“Don’t accuse me, meatloaf. I just started to wilt this morning.” She tumbled around to have a look. “I bet its cheese. His cling wrap is open.”
Cheese, embarrassed, replied. “I’ve gotten a little dry, but I’m not moldy.” He yawned as he looked around the shelves. “I bet it’s yogurt. She was here before me.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t expire for a few more days."Yogurt took a quick glance. "In my opinion broccoli is the cause of the odor.”
Broccoli rose up out his bag. “It’s not me. This drawer is so cold I’m freezing my stalk off.” He noticed salami was out of place. “Salami isn’t in his meat drawer. I bet it’s him.”
“My package hasn’t even been opened yet. I say it’s hamburger. He's turning a little brown.”
“I’m only brown because I’m too close to the light.” He protested. “Maybe It’s the eggs. There are a dozen of them. “
”We are grade A, farm fresh eggs bought two days ago. If we had to guess, we'd say it’s the leftover refried beans. They've been taking a siesta in here for a month.”
Refried beans tipped their lid. “Don’t gang up on us eggs. You’ve got the wrong can. We've only been here a few days.”
Orange juice scooted his bottle closer to milk carton. “Have you checked your own expiration date lately, milk? You should do that before you start accusing perfectly good food.”
Milk carton leaned away from orange juice. “Who asked you, Mr. Sunshine? Nobody is looking at my date.”
All the food began to chant, “Check milk’s date! Check milk's date!"
Cola bottle and a lemonade pitcher held milk down while orange juice checked his date.
“He expired a week ago. We should’ve known it was milk carton. They always get sour when they expire.”
The refrigerator door opened and milk carton’s contents were poured down the drain. He was last seen resting in the trash can.