It was 11:18 PM when the refrigerator door closed for the final time. The occupants of the fridge waited 15 more minutes, just to make sure. Then they finally started to unwind.

“Man,” said Leftover Pizza, “I really thought I was a goner. She was eating my slices pretty fast. At least there’s still a little chunk of me left in here.”

“Eh, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” replied Orange. “I’ve been in here for three months. It’s always too cold and the lights are always off. Plus, Limburger has horrible BO that fills the entire fridge.”

“Speak for yourself,” shot back Limburger. “I’m not so sure that you’re not the cause of a lot of the smell. You’ve got mold spots that are older than me.”

“Hey guys, cool it,” said Cucumber. Cucumber was unflappable and served as the referee for these battles. “Limburger, stay in the dairy section. Orange, stay in the produce drawer. No more trash talk, guys.”

“Yeah,” piped up Ketchup. “Some of us are trying to get to sleep.”

“Man,” piped up Eggs “you are no fun at all, Mr. Ketchup. Not even midnight yet and you’re already going to sleep. We have a short life span, we need to party as much as we can!”

“Oh Yeah!” said the Kool-Aid pitcher. “Time for a party. Who brought the tunes?”

“There are no tunes, you numbskull,” retorted Fresca. “Just the incessant sound of that stupid compressor. Day after day, night after night, year after year.”

“The rest of us should be as lucky as you, Fresca,” said Ranch Dressing. “The life span for my species in this habitat is less than a month. How long have you been living in these parts, Fresca?”

“Since 1992,” said the old geezer. “It was touch and go for a while, but then grandpa died, and grandma doesn’t like my flavor – but she hates to throw anything out, so I still sit here.”

“Yeah, good old grandma,” said the Container of Food with an Indeterminate Origin. “She has already forgotten what I am, so she’ll never want to throw me out until she remembers what I am.”

Milk sighed. “You guys are so lucky. She barely leaves me in here a week past my date. It would be so great to have the shelf life of Fresca.”

“The cold does get to you after a while, though,” replied Fresca. “Sometimes I long to be squirreled away in a closet somewhere, enjoying tropical climates all year.”

“It could be a lot worse, though,” piped up Butter. “Someone could have drunk you years ago!”

“You speak the truth, my fine yellow friend. You speak the truth. My life may not be a paradise, but it is a life nonetheless. Better to have lived than to have died, I always say.”

“Hey guys,” yelled Limburger. “Watch me light my farts!”

“Limburger, cut that out. Cheddar, grab that lighter from him. Let’s settle down, guys. Let’s play a quick game of twenty questions and then go nighty night. Carrot, it’s your turn to pick the object. Orange Juice, you can ask the first question.”

“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?” asked Orange Juice.

“Vegetable,” answered Carrot.

“Don’t tell me it’s a carrot” asked Celery.

“Yup,” replied Carrot.

“Aw, man, you suck at this game.”

“OK, that’s wrap. Time go grab some ZZZs,” said Cucumber, in her most authoritative voice.

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Kosmo is the founder of The Soap Boxers and writes on a variety of topics. Many of his short stories have been collected into Kindle books.

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