A KID LOVES EATING FRIES, ONE DAY, WHEN HIS MOM MA
A KID LOVES EATING FRIES, ONE DAY, WHEN HIS MOM MADE FRENCH FRIES FOR HIM AND HIS FRIENDS, JOHN AND JERRY, THE TWINS, HE FOUND OUT HE LOST HIS FRIES!HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO FIND IT AND THE ANTS HAVE IT!
Bartholomew “Barty” Butterfield loved french fries with a passion usually reserved for rock stars and winning lottery tickets. He wasn’t picky – skinny fries, chunky fries, even those sad, limp fries that clung pathetically to the bottom of the basket – Barty devoured them all. So, when his mom announced she was making a mountain of golden, crispy french fries for his birthday party, Barty felt a joyous surge so powerful, he nearly levitated.
His guests of honor were John and Jerry, identical twins with a penchant for mischief and a shared love of ketchup (which, frankly, Barty considered a crime against the crispy perfection of the fry).
The fries arrived, a magnificent, steaming tower that threatened to topple over. Barty, eyes wide with anticipation, prepared to launch into his fry-eating extravaganza. He counted them – at least fifty! – a personal best for a single sitting.
But then… disaster. He looked away for a split second to grab his favorite ketchup, a vintage bottle shaped like a giant tomato, and when he looked back…the mountain had shrunk! Half the fries were gone!
“My fries!” Barty wailed, his voice cracking with the agony of a fry-less future. John and Jerry, usually masters of chaos, were genuinely shocked. This was serious. The disappearance of Barty’s fries was an event of epic proportions.
Following a trail of stray potato crumbs, they discovered a tiny army of ants, hundreds of them, marching single-file, each hauling a miniature french fry with impressive determination. The ants had formed a magnificent, meandering line that stretched across the kitchen floor, like a shimmering, edible river.
“The ants!” Jerry gasped, his eyes wide.
John, ever the pragmatist, grabbed a magnifying glass (he kept one in his backpack, just in case) and examined the scene. “They’re… they’re building a fry-pyramid!” he exclaimed.
Indeed, at the end of the ant highway stood a miniature pyramid made entirely of perfectly-sized french fries. It was a testament to ant engineering prowess, and also a blatant theft of Barty’s fries.
Barty, still lamenting his loss, considered attacking the ants. But seeing the intricate structure they’d built, he felt a grudging respect. Besides, squishing hundreds of tiny ants seemed a tad cruel.
John, however, had a different idea. He gently offered the ants a deal. “Look,” he whispered, “we’ll give you a few more fries – extra crispy ones – if you let Barty have some back.”
The ants, seemingly capable of understanding negotiation, paused their building project. After a moment of frantic antennal communication, they seemed to agree.
Barty, John, and Jerry then supervised a fair exchange, ensuring both the ants and Barty got a generous portion. Barty got to enjoy his fries, the ants got to enjoy their new, giant-sized fry-pyramid, and everyone learned a valuable lesson: never leave a mountain of french fries unattended, especially when an army of ambitious ants is nearby. The twins, however, kept the magnifying glass – you never knew when another ant-related crisis might arise.
