I posted this in a random fit of sugar-induced spazziness. It just barely qualifies as fanfiction. But some people really seem to like it- if you don't, I'm very, very sorry. Please don't read and please don't review. It's not hurting anyone. But, if you really are bothered, that's fine. (Though, truthfully, I don't see how anyone could be bothered by this harmless fic. To each his own, I guess.)

Internal Conflict

Mird stared at the cupcake, deep in thought.

Al said nothing, hoping it was just a phase. Her last few 'phases' were the being-completely-silent-then-saying-something-stupid-and-random-phase, the name-everyone-she-saw-whether-she-knew-them-or-not-phase and the extremely-annoying-habit-of-not-listening-to-people-when-they-talk-to-her-phase, all three of which were still going on.

And now the staring-at-cupcakes-phase.

It made Al wonder, 'what will it be next?'

"Alphonse, I've been having an internal conflict," Mird said suddenly, returning to the being-completely-silent-then-saying-something-stupid-and-random-phase. "You see, I want to eat this cupcake. But I also don't."

Al continued to say nothing. He knew better than that by now.

"See, if I eat this cupcake, I could get fat, and I don't want that. But if I don't eat it now, it could be gone by tomorrow, eaten by someone else, and then I wouldn't be able to enjoy the delicious sugary goodness. But, if I eat it now, I won't have it for some other time when I'm starving to death."

Al said nothing some more. He had never noticed how interesting the ceiling was.

"And," continued Mird, "if I save the cupcake for tomorrow, there might be mold on it by the time I finally decide to eat it. Then again, mold could already have grown on it, only it grew on the INSIDE, so I won't know it's there until I take a bite out of it and taste moldy sugary not-goodness instead of delicious sugary goodness. And then I might develop a fatal disease. I could DIE from a fatal disease. Al, would you be sad if I died of a fatal disease?"

She didn't wait for an answer.

"Of course, it all depends on how good the cupcake tastes. If it tastes like shit, I will immediately spit it out and wonder if it was worth my time. But if it is good, I might never know, that is, if I DON'T eat it. So the choice remains."

Al stared blankly at the wall. Has that crack in the shape of Minnesota ALWAYS been there?

"There is still the issue that the cupcake may be poisoned. There is my irrational-fear-friend who comes in the night and tries to kill me in my sleep. He might try to kill me while I'm awake, too, and what better way to do it than to poison my cupcake? Plus one, by the way."

Al picked up a nearby Rubiks Cube and began working on getting the green side done.

"So, Al, what do YOU think I should do?"

Needless to say, Al has no answer.

The End