Mrs. Johnson put the Cheez Whiz in her shopping cart. There was nothing in the cart but her jar of Cheez Whiz. It sat on top of the hashmark design of the shopping cart, basking in its cheezy glory. The lid was securely fastened to the jar of Cheez Whiz but later, when someone removed it, it would pop and the jar would yield its treasure of orange cheesy paste.

Mrs. Johnson pushed her cart of Cheez Whiz through the store. People smiled at her because she was well known in her town. "I see you're buying some Cheez Whiz," said Rod Lemire, the mayor. "Yes, I am," said Mrs. Johnson, and walked on.

Mrs. Johnson was 62. Her hair was white and gray - no black, like it used to be when she was a younger lady. Her teeth were yellow and brown because she smoked and drank too much coffee. There was red lipstick on her lips and a little blot of it had migrated to one of her incisors. Mrs. Johnson was smiling because she was imagining what it would be like to smear Cheez Whiz on one of the Melba toasts that were currently on the table in her TV room. When she got home, she fully intended to break open a package of Melba Toasts, put Cheez Whiz on them, and then eat them as she watched Dr. Phil or Masterpiece Theatre or her videotapes of Orville Redenbacher shaving his armpits.

Mrs. Johnson was addicted to Cheez Whiz. She ate 63 cans a week. Perhaps this is why she weighed 400 pounds. When she got up to the cashier, she saw that the register was being operated by Green Lantern.

"Hello Green Lantern," said Mrs. Johnson. "I would like to buy this Cheez Whiz."

"Bully for you," said Green Lantern. And ate a biscuit.

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Shteevie (joined about 12 years ago)

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Blank Prompt

Freeform prompt. Every Friday, writers face a blank page without any prompt. They write whatever they want in six minutes or less.
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