Blue Cheerios

 - or whatever was left of them, rather

 

Its simple

1 c plain cheerios

1/2 c unsweetened almond milk

1/4 c blueberry sauce

(blueberries simmering in a saucepan for about fifteen minutes turn into awesome!!)

Once upon

a time there was a little boy named Maxwell. He lived in a hole in a mountain with his pet iguana Lombardo. 

     Every day, he would wake up and eat green eggs and ham, then go to the boxed lunch factory where he worked. He was en expert at smoothing rice until it fit perfectly in the lunch containers,  and he took pride in the way he arranged the mushrooms and bamboo shoots. And he had every right to be. He was after all, a professional.

     But one day, the boss called him up to the big purple office. He called him up because the office was six floors above the assembly line. It was a deserving name, as the room was indeed big and purple. The walls were a jolly shade of lavender, and the leather uphulsored floors were a ruddy plum. Even the furnishings were a dark aubergine.
     The minute the announcement came over the intercom, Maxwell panicked. He had never been called to the office before, and he was sure that he had never done anything wrong enough to deserve a demerit. Regardless, he worriedly approached the big purple doors that read 'main office', mumbling inaudibly to himself.

     Maxwell grasped the golden knob of the leftmost door. It was chilled and much too large for his dainty hand. Slowly, and with some difficulty, he turned it. The door eased open with a loud groan, revealing a vast expanse of purple. The room seemed empty however, and Maxwell was just about to make his leave when suddenly, a flurry of smiling faces erupted from behind the purple plank of the rightmost door.

     "Happy Lief Errikson Day!!" they screamed in enthusiastic unison. Maxwell immediately recognized his coworkers and boss, beaming down at him with braided locks and horned viking helmets atop their heads. What a marvelous surprise!

     Maxwell had become so consumed by his work, that he had completely forgotten about his favorite Norse holiday! He smiled from ear to ear and screamed at the top of his lungs, 
"AYE!! LET THE VIKING BRAWL BEGIN!!"

     Everyone drew their clubs and pitchforks from the pockets of their creepy pedophile trenchcoats, and immediately leaped on top of one another screaming as merrily as barbarians can manage without looking too strange.

     Maxwell was filled with a queer happiness then, as he bashed the skulls of his very best friends. His heart throbbed with satisfaction and his eyes gleamed with glee. Could such a magical day get any better than this?

     No sooner had he asked himself that very rhetorical question, when suddenly a unicorn-drawn ice cream trolley packed with kitten-ninjas burst through one particularly purple wall! 

     Maxwell stared in utter amazement. His question had just been answered.

     Goodnight children. Sweet dreams and honey wishes!