Karl G. Maeser and the Noodle of Honor

WARNING: This is really, really dumb story.

Thirteen-year-old Karl stood in front of his mirror, shirt off, admiring his lack of muscular build. “One more day,” he said to himself, “Just one more day to carbo-load.” Tomorrow was the track meet of a lifetime. He'd be doing hurdles—he was never very good at hurdles. But he knew he had to win—Heloise would be there, and he just had to impress her. Morp was coming up, and he thought if he won, she might—just might—ask him to go.

Karl had been eating spaghetti for the past three days for every meal, and tonight was his last chance to beef up before the big day. As he sat in front of his bowl of Western Family noodles and generic tomato puree sauce, he looked down into his dish and noticed it was wiggling a little bit.

His noodles were moving.

Backing away from the table, worried it might be a beetle or something, Karl froze as he saw the end of a spaghetti noodle, pink with tomato juice, peek over the edge of his bowl.

“Hello, Karl,” it said.

The noodle began rising out of the bowl like a charmed snake, curving and waving toward the ceiling. This was no bowl of noodles, Karl realized. This was a bowl of noodle. One noodle. And it was coming towards him.

Karl lept from his chair and ran towards the door, but it was locked from the inside. He ran to another door—every door in the room was closed and locked! He was stuck in the kitchen with a very long noodle that was slithering towards him across the floor, leaving a trail of Western Family parmesan cheese crumbs and bits of tomato across the tile.

Frozen in the middle of the room, Karl watched the long noodle form a circle around him.

“Ha ha ha,” said the noodle.

“What do you want from me!” Karl cried. “Anything! I'll do anything!”

The noodle was staring him down.

“Give me your word of honor that you will never leave this circle,” said the noodle. “And Heloise is yours.”

Karl really did want Heloise—there was no question about it. After about two seconds of thought, Karl nodded his head and sat down on the floor.

Minutes passed. Hours. He stayed there all night. And the next day, at 2:47pm, Karl couldn't take it anymore. He was starving, and the track meet was in 13 minutes. It looked like the noodle was asleep.

He just couldn't control his appetite.

“I just can't take it anymore!” he yelled, and just as the noodle whipped up it's stringy head, Karl grabbed the noodle and started slurping into his mouth. He wasn't going to miss this track meet—nor the opportunity for a last minute carbo-load. Swallowing the last bit of the noodle, Karl ran to the door and found it unlocked. Free! He sprinted out the door and bolted to the track.

In the end, Karl didn't keep his word of honor. His team lost at the track meet. And Heloise, who asked him to Morp, ended up dumping him for a guitar player.

It would haunt him for the rest of his life.

The End