Chapter Four: Three-Thousand Pounds of "What If?"

Aspartame rushed the counter. If there's a will there's a way. He quietly, carefully, quietly picked up the coffee. He glanced back at his seat. Empty, just as he had left it. He executed a wonderfully amazing balancing act carrying the coffee, carefully quietly mapping out the perfect path back to his seat where none of those football team jerks would try to trip him like they do in the movies where the main character has his lunch or something in the cafeteria and he's trying to carry it back to his seat but some jerk on the football team is like "I'm gonna say something mean to you and then trip you" and then later in the movie to main character does a bunch of cool stuff and everything likes him and then he ends up tripping the guy who tripped him, or maybe the guy who tripped him just ends of tripping on his own and the main character didn't even do anything about it, and the whole audience is just like "Wow the luck has changed, the tables have turned, not the mean guy is gonnna feel bad about being mean and maybe not be mean anymore."

Aspartame place his coffee on the smooth wooden table next to his chosen and rightful seat. The table was built of a good quality wood, it was probably pretty expensive but there was a chance they got a good deal on it because they probably bought it at the same time as all the other tables.

Aspartame started reading the side of the coffee cup aloud. Everyone clapped.

It was getting later in the day. Aspartame had been there for hours, maybe he would be there all night. A man turned to him (not the man from earlier, he's not important and we're never going to talk about him again so you might as well forget about him already.) "Hello," the man said.

"Hello," Aspartame replied. He was always good with people like that.

"I don't think you understand me," the man said. "I said hello."

Aspartame instantly understood. "I understand," he said.

"I'm glad," the man said. "Can you I buy you a coffee."

"I've already got me one," Aspartame polited.

"Oh, yes, ha ha ha ha ha," the man laughed. "Ha ha ha ha ha."

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha", Aspartame laughsponded. So this is what flirting is like.

"Good good good and all that," the man said as he bolted out of the room. What a runner.

Aspartame turned to the camera. "A runner's gotta run I guess!"

"Oh well," Jimmy chimed in with his signature catch-phrase.

To be continued...