Who Moved My Cheese Novels & Stories

There was a huge fight. Mac was struggling to stay together with cheese, but they were both defeated by agent fork and agent spoon. Agent spoon knew what needed to be done. He transported the defeated casualties to the arena of destruction, where they were to battle with the white giants called teeth. Mac and cheese didn't stand a chance against teeth, for never has it been known that teeth lost in any battle. They were crumbled upon, and then sent into the eternal hole, the hole of no return.

Okay, what the hell is going on? “I must be trapped in some kind of twisted nightmare,” I muttered under my breath. Shaking off the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine, I focused on my plate. The moment I lifted the lid and saw the steaming mac and cheese, my mood instantly lifted. Without a second thought, I scooped up a spoonful and took a bite, savoring the creamy, cheesy goodness. “I see you’re enjoying yourself,” Vincent’s voice broke through the silence. I glanced at him briefly before replying with a nonchalant hum, too occupied with my food to care about whatever strange game he was playing.

And oh god, what was Cathy going to say? Taking a deep breath, I straightened my clothes and headed back to the table. Our appetizers had already arrived, and Cathy was in the middle of what appeared to be a very dramatic cheese-tasting experience. "Bernice!" she exclaimed as I sat down. "You have got to try this brie. It's like... it's like if clouds and happiness had a baby, and that baby was made of cheese." I couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "That good, huh?"

But what made it more surprising is that the only person he followed was me… [mr spencer: glad to find you, crystal baby. What in the world of cheese…

He asked. He liked my cooking. The thought of moving in with him before the wedding scared me like hell. It was an awesome experience especially when he was around me to accompany me unknowingly. "Mac and cheese," I told him. His food habits were also more luxurious than mine. I felt suddenly nervous and rubbed my hand on my arm.

Chips exploded. Soda sprayed into the air. And a giant bowl of warm nacho cheese tipped over. Directly onto Chloe. The room went silent. Every single person stared. Chloe lay flat on her back. Covered in cheese. A giant tortilla chip stuck perfectly to her forehead. For three full seconds nobody moved. Then Ugo fell to his knees laughing. And the entire party lost it.

After the main course, the maids cleared the plates and brought out fruits, small appetizers, and a gleaming tray of cheesecakes. A dark thought settled into my mind as I stared at them. I’m allergic to cheese. Violently allergic. Will she look at me if I take a bite? Will she finally see me and get away from that brat long enough to care that I'm in the same room?

He stopped at Sharon's favourite restaurant on the way, ordering her favourite dish, then Dillon's, then, almost as an afterthought, mine. Even ordering mine last, he still got it wrong, handing me a dish loaded with mushrooms, the one thing I'm allergic to. He doesn't remember. He doesn't remember anything about me anymore. His whole world is his business and his mistress. I can't believe I used to love this man. I can't believe there was a version of me that once begged him to touch her. I said nothing about the mix-up and let him hand it over anyway. Mushrooms are Sharon's favourite, after all. It would find its way to her plate eventually.

I asked confusingly while looking through the notes. “Look at the picture...” Grandpa Max said pointing his finger at a picture. To my surprise, he did make this just for me. The picture he showed me was of me when I was a toddler. And I was holding something that was shaped like a ball, and it was bite-sized. “I call it, MaxCheese Bites.” Grandpa Max said. “MaxCheese Bites?” I asked confusingly. “Like full of cheese?” “MaxCheese as in Mac-and-Cheese.” He answered.

"I'd do it and hunt with you, but mom would freak out if I wasn't home by then." I nodded. "Go. I'll be fine." "Are you sure?" she asked, raising her brow. "Yeah," I said. "It's just cheese. How hard can it be?" We embraced in health hurriedly and I rose and saw her fade into the crowd. I breathed deeply, adjusted the bags on my one shoulder, and dived once more into the maze of stalls. The cheese was a harder one to find than I would have preferred. All of the vendors at each of the stalls I went to had only the one I didn't want or were not there.