There once was a greedy little eater.
Despite his ceaseless efforts, never could he stave off the tameless hunger aching within. He could never have enough to eat, but he refused to eat anything that did not emerge from the oily, plastic bag of his beloved potato chips. Desperately his mother tried to change his diet. She tried but in vain; any attempts to feed him something else, or worse, to seize his beloved potato chips would beckon a tirade of fearsome howls and bites.
These savage uproars proved hazardous for anyone too close to the ravenous, bulging boy. This was the way of the greedy little eater. His only purpose seemed to be devouring every last potato chip on earth. The job was endless, but he worked tirelessly, the greedy little eater. He drove his mother mad as she drove him to the store for the eleventh time that week.
"My child," said his mother. "Oh, but look how fat you are! Your skin is stretching thin!" The greedy little eater only smiled, deafened to all by the salty ecstasy of the chips he stuffed into his mouth. First the right, then the left; each of his fists plunging into his latest bag of potato chips and then up into his gnashing jaws again.
The sounds of his crunching drowned out the radio no matter how high his mother set the volume. Endless crunching and gulping and delighted moans filled the car as she sped to the market in search of more chips for her incorrigible child. Without warning, the crunching was replaced with the blood-chilling screams of the greedy little eater. He had extinguished the last of his potato chips. His meaty fists pounded the seats and wet pieces of chips flew in every direction as he cried out,
"More chips! I want more chips!"
"But my child, we will be there soon!"
"More chips!"
Even when his mother parked the car in front of the supermarket, his wailing did not cease.
"I will return soon, my child." His mother left him screaming and hurried into the store to find more chips for her gluttonous son.
The greedy little eater was inconsolable as he sat alone in the car. He shrieked and spat and pounded the windows, but nothing he tried could cure his hunger. He grew ever more impatient as his mother lingered in the store until he could no longer stand it. He pulled on the handle of his door and wriggled himself out of the car. Too fat to walk, the greedy little eater dragged himself across the parking lot, his stubby legs trailing behind him like the tail of a slug. He dragged himself to the dumpster on the side of the supermarket, the faintest smell of chips coaxing him—undetectable by most, but not the greedy little eater.
"I smell chips, and chips I'll eat, until my belly's full!" He peered beneath the sludge-caked dumpster. There amid the stinking refuse was an old bag of potato chips. He reached his hand inside, but quickly drew it out again. "What is this?" he cried. "What is this in my bag of chips?" The small, red eyes of a rat emerged from the potato chip bag. "Stinking rat!" cried the greedy little eater. "You've had your share! Give me my chips or I'll thump you!" The red eyes blinked and disappeared again. "Stinking rat!" The greedy little eater thrust his hand into the bag again and squeezed his meaty fingers around the squeaking rat.
No amount of biting or scratching did any good, the rat could not escape his grasp. "The chips are mine!" shouted the greedy little eater. He smashed the rat against the asphalt. Over and over again he smashed the rat into the ground until there was nothing left but a wet puddle of meat and bone. His hand blackened with blood; the greedy little eater turned his attention back to the prized bag of chips beneath the dumpster. Without a moment's pause, not even to wipe the guts from his hand, he seized the bag of chips and sat upright against the dumpster. Smiling, he began to stuff his mouth with chips. He chortled and moaned as he gobbled the potato chips. He ate and ate until the bag was empty.
"I'm still hungry!" cried the greedy little eater. He stared down at his fingers, yellow with dust from the salty chips. He began to lick them, giggling with delight as his fat tongue stripped his fingers of the potato chip dust. His ecstasy grew to be so overwhelming that he did not notice when his licking turned to chewing.
It was not the sound of crunching that broke him from his trance, it was something else; a new taste—something he had never tasted before. A taste so seductive that any sense of pain was lost to the greedy little eater. He chewed on in quiet pleasure, there was only the sound of crunching. He chewed and gnawed and licked his lips. He did not stop until he had reached his elbows. "More!" cried the greedy little eater. He looked down at his portly feet and strained his head, but alas, he could not reach his toes. The greedy little eater began to wail for he was still hungry.
