Satan vs. the Burrito Thief

My best ate my burrito so I learned the dark arts and made Satan haunt him he thought he could

get away, that burrito was the most delicious thing ever made, a warm and perfect

creation, and to think someone would actually steal the best thing ever from someone else's

hands. It all started when I made the burrito and put it in my fridge when he was

visiting The moment I saw him leaning against my kitchen counter, that beautiful,

foil-wrapped masterpiece in his hands, I froze. The sound of that first bite—the gentle

crunch of the perfectly toasted tortilla, the squish of the seasoned meat and rice—echoed louder

than a gunshot in the silent house. Time stopped. He chewed, swallowed,