Bobby sat hunched on the floor and complained, “I’m hungry.” But Jimmy ignored him and splashed on the rain-sodden carpet to dark kitchen door. Pale moonlight shone through the cob-webbed window. An orange skillet glowed its dusty reflection. Sizzles of bacon made salty, mouth-watering smells.
“Hey Bobby. Ghost food!”
At the foot of the stove, a pair of boots shuffled and danced to a silent tune then fell over their laces.
“Watch out!” shrieked the cat.
Then Bobby ran past, axe in hand, to smash skillet and ghost. “Reeses Pieces,” he said. “Human food.”
“Yummy-yum,” said the cat.