I’ve lived a good life, but out of all the times I’ve thought about the end of it all, I never thought I would go out like this.

“SILENCE YOUR THOUGHT, MEASLY HUMAN!”

Okay, I should probably catch you up.

A team in biologists and engineers in Spain thought it would be funny if they gave minds to potatoes. Potatoes gain awareness, and shortly after overtook all of mankind due to the fact that we find mashed potatoes and chips delicious. Now everyone hates potatoes, and by extension, all of Spain (which is the first and only time that racism is slightly justified), and now the entire human race is being fried in a vat of oil to be fed to the potato-men, a sub-race of humans that came into existence after the potatoes had a grip on biology (don’t think about it too long).

“I SAID SHUT UP YOUR MIND, YOU CARBON-BASED FREAK” screams the king potato. Also I forgot to mention that they can see into your brain. That’s what the little dots on potatoes are for; it’s their ‘third eyes’. Glad to know they don’t have the best grip on maths.

I should be screaming. But it’s all happened so fast. One second I see my husband sleeping beside me, another second passes and he’s fried in horrible beer batter. It’s probably because of his Irish heritage. And now I’m here, in mesh box, about to be fried to death by sentient potatoes.

The oil tickles my feet. I used to be scared of oil bubbling as a kid, screaming in horror while running in the other direction as soon as the bacon made noise. I got over the fear when I realised that the pain of oil is insignificant to the sheer joy of eating bacon. I guess now’s a good time to have that fear back.

I look around in my deep fryer to see who are my inevitable-death-mates are. There’s Joey Thompson, the kid from across the road who eats hot dogs from the middle, Christina Willis, my roommate in college and my bi-curious adventurer in need whenever we got drunk, Tommy Egglestone, who tried to cheat off me in high school one time with a telescope because “my handwriting’s so tiny” (he didn’t get caught!) and Chris Turner, the elderly man from across my road who eats cabbages straight out of the ground. This is like a family reunion, except that my family’s dead and only one person is my friend. Everyone else is like an acquaintance.

“OH MY GOD, TINY WOMAN WITH THE CURLS, SHUT UP!” I think that’s me.

Welp. I’ve had a great life. I was born Elizabeth Twain, to a kind-of-normal family-

“YOU MOTHER-“

Born and raised in Indiana, ate a crayon in primary school, went to high school and somehow ate another crayon-

“-FUC-“

Graduated, went to college to study geology, the most boring subject. In physics, if you screw up, you just destroyed space. In biology, if you screw up, potatoes take over the world and everyone dies. In geology, if you screw up, a rock is on the floor.

“-KER I WILL MURDER-“

Graduated from college with a bachelors in ‘not dropping rocks’, did nothing with it, went into a crappy accounting job, met handsome Mc-three-years-younger-than-me Joseph Stranolds, a chef at a kind of classy café-

“-YOU AND YOUR FAMI-“

We settled down in a half-descent house, and that’s been my life for the past couple of years. Hey, I guess my life did just flash before me. Movies are true! Maybe I can extend my belief so a car can talk and also have the voice of David Hasselhoff might exist. At least tell me Amélie was based on somewhat true events.

“-LY IN A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH!” the potato king screams in a wheezy voice. Wow, he really hates m