Apples To Apples.

A tall, thin student walked out of the cafeteria line, holding a tray with two sandwiches, a large fry and six apples. He was about to walk out the door when he was stopped by a stern-looking teacher. Her hair was gray and she had a rather pronounced chin. She shook her head and held out her hand,

“The human eating machine strikes again! Apples. Give them to me now!” She ordered. He hesitated.

“B-but, I only have three,” he mumbled feebly. Her eyes narrowed.

“You have six! You know it’s only two per person, maximum,” she yelled, swiping four from his tray. He scowled.

“But, but I’m hungry!” he protested. His stomach audibly growled as he smiled innocently at her. She huffed.

“You’re always hungry. What, do you think apples grow on trees or something?” She scoffed and turned around, walking quickly back to the basket full of apples, grumbling to herself. Her heels clicked sharply on the tiled floor.

He looked at her in disbelief and continued on his way. He walked over to a group of his friends sitting on a nearby table. He sat down and greeted them, after asking if any of them wanted to donate their apples to him.