After years of losing scores of kernels each time the VCR turned on, the popcorn made a pact that the next group would ensure that none after would go the route of exploding into unprotected starchy balls. In a burst of hot air, white puffs flew out of the kitchen directly at the video unit, through the reprehensible metal trap, until all one hundred and seventy three kernels were tightly packed into the source of their chaotic metamorphosis.

Returning from her room, Sally found the popcorn maker empty so went to the living room where she found her son Jason mesmerized in front of the popcorn-packed Panasonic. Drawing the wrong conclusion, Sally slapped Jason and sent him to bed.

Meanwhile, the popped corn huddled deeper, inadvertently disconnecting two wires, and waited with wide angry mouths for her fingers to enter.

Thank you to the editors of Quick Fiction for first publishing this flash.

Beautiful format, this great publication puts out fantastic flash twice a year: