We come from beyond the stars. We are the Yorkie chocolate bars.

I was in Grade 4 and this giant living chocolate bar was walking around the schoolyard. We tried shooting it and pelting it with rocks. But nothing worked. The chocolate bar was too thick.

"YORKIE!" it screamed and then it tickled me. Or gave me a wedgie.

Man, I hated that thing. But I have to confess that in a weird way, I liked it too. Don't ask me why but for some reason, I sensed that it wasn't completely malevolent. No. Deep down, I knew there was an inherent sweetness.

One day, Jason and I were on the roof of St. Gerard's, looking for Playboys. The principal came out and screamed at us. Then, out of nowhere, Yorkie appeared. A walking 8 foot tall chocolate bar. It picked the principal up and threw him in the sewer. All the kids laughed and clapped. But then the Yorkie bar picked up Kieron and tied his sweater over his head. This scared us because no one messed with Kieron. But Yorkie did.

Ahh Yorkie. He met his demise on June 8, which was the hottest day of the year. It was simplicity itself, really. The sun came out, and Yorkie started to melt. We watched it happen too. Me, Jay, Rachel, Joanne, Jason, Leigh, Fernando, even Mike. Yorkie had been terrorizing us for the whole year, and now he was dying, and darn it, we felt bad.

I wanted to save him, but it was only when it was too late that I had the idea.

"A fridge," I said, and the others leapt to action. We tried to pick Yorkie up and carry him inside, but by then there was nothing to grab. He was liquid. Chocolatey goo.

I looked down at him and I cried. "I'll miss you, my friend.," I said.

Then Jay brought out marshmallows and graham cookies. Smores. Yay!