Evie’s 500 words

“Eat up little one, eat all your fishfingers.”
“But I don’t like them mama.” said the little boy to his mother.
“ Well then,” she said smartly back, “The Fishfinger Police will come and chain you up for the night.” And that is how out story starts- within an old kitchen.

The Fishfinger Police are very tall Fishfingers, with belts with holsters that hold their guns, caps with shiny badges and sunglasses so dark that you cannot see their eyes. They only come if you do not eat your fishfingers, and they will take you away for the night.

But once upon a time, there was the fussiest eater of all. His name was Bob. One time his mother told him about the Fishfinger Police, but he just laughed. That is the thing with all children now. They don’t believe in fairy tales, myths or legends. Tut.

Anyway, back to the story. Then one day Bob’s mother served him fishfingers for dinner, and he just sniffed, poked them with a knife and pushed his plate away. “Eat them up, Bob.” said his mother, sounding worried.
“Humph. You seriously think that I’m going to eat them?” He replied.

BANG! The door flew open and there stood the Fishfinger Police, guns out and read for duty. Bob’s eyes popped and his mouth widened, as he now knew that his mother was right. “I’m ever so sorry Miss, but your son is going to have to stay at Fishfinger Prison.”

“H-how long for?” stammered Bob’s petrified mother.
“Hmm… Let’s see. Ah yes! Your son is just booked in for one night.” replied a crunchy-looking fishfinger. Bob went paler than a paper sheet. “Come on then, sonny Jim.” said a fishfinger who looked like he pumped some iron.

That night was terrible. Bob couldn’t sleep because he was thinking about his poor poor mother who had tried to warn him. At about two o’clock in the morning, Bob was brought back home to his beloved Mother. All of the Fishfinger Police tipped their hats as Bob left. Nervously.

“And that is why you should eat your fishfingers little one,” said the little boy’s mother to her son.
“I will mama!” the little boy cried, stuffing his face with fishfingers. “But there is one thing niggling mama.” He said.
“Yes darling?”
“Isn’t Bob…  Well…”
“Come on spit it out!”
“Isn’t Bob my big brother?!”
“Yes… He is your big bother.”
“ Well he was extremely brave!” The little boy’s mother sat down. She sighed. 
“He was the biggest, bravest boy ever.”

Bob suddenly came down and his little brother gave him a BIG hug. He winked and his mother and she winked back. If you don’t like fishfingers, just remember this story. Always remember the amazing Fishfinger Police. OR ELSE.


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