For all intents and purposes, Sarah Mildew was a perfectly normal young woman. She worked in an office, finished at 5 pm on a Friday, and spent the weekend partying with the girls, before visiting her grandparents for dinner on Sunday.
However, Sarah wasn’t completely normal. This was because every night at around 2 am, Sarah would be attacked in her bed by an army of small flat cheese people.
Where the cheese people had come from, or how they had gotten into her apartment, Sarah wasn’t really sure. At one point, she had suspected that they had evolved from a GMO Dairylea segment which had fallen behind the cooker one day. The only problem was that Sarah had pulled the cooker out once, and there was the slice, still intact where it was supposed to be.
What Sarah did know, though, was why the small cheese people attacked her.
“We are here,” their 5cm tall Cheshire Cheese ringleader had announced one day as he kicked down the bedroom door, “to seek revenge on behalf of all of our brethren whom you have so gratuitously consumed over the course of your gluttonous lifetime!”
And so, at 2 am every morning, the assault would start. A contingent of American cheese slices would hold her down, while their Cheshire Cheese ringleader and a militia of Cheddar Cheese soldiers would pour hot fondue over her. Then a barrage of Philadelphia coated breadstick missiles would reign down on her, followed by a vicious beating by a rotund block Blue Stilton.
Needless to say, Sarah’s morning ablutions often took much longer than most peoples. However, after washing dried fondue out of her hair and masking her blue stilton bruises with foundation, Sarah was able to lead something of an ordinary life. After all, what choice did she have? Who in the world would ever believe her story, even if she did sometimes smell like ricotta and camembert?
One day, however, Sarah finally decided that she had had enough. As a final act of defiance she, therefore, left work early one Thursday afternoon, bought an electric blanket from Home Depot, and installed it secretly under her mattress cover.
Sarah’s idea was simple. While her 2 am assailants were relatively viscous and solid at room temperature, they would surely suffer liquefaction should she turn the heat up.
And so as 2 am approached, Sarah snuggled quietly beneath the covers, waiting as usual for her her bedspread to be ripped away by her Cheshire Cheese nemesis’s Parmesan foot soldiers.
“Argghhh!” Then came the expected warcry as the Parmesan brutes arrived right on schedule. This time, however, Sarah didn’t resist as the American cheese slices began sticking her to her bedsheets. Instead, she simply flicked the electric blanket control and stared defiantly as Mr. Cheshire Cheese himself stood upon her bosom and began pelting her around the face with a rugged slice of Dutch gouda.
Of course, the cheese peoples beating was as savage as always. Sarah knew, however, that the element of surprise was the only thing going in her favor. Then, just as the cruel Babybel cheese Sarah feared worst of all started screaming obscenities into her ear, she realized that her plan was working!
The American cheese slices holding her down had been slowly reduced into just goo, while even Mr. Cheshire Cheese himself was starting to liquefy on top of her.
“What have you done?” He screamed as Sarah jumped up and began bundling her electric blanket around the remaining cheese army in order to contain them as they melted into just gloop.
“I’ve won!” Sarah shouted back, smearing fondue over her face like Amazonian warpaint. - And Sarah had won. Where before there had been only blue veined misery and hopelessness, there was now just a cheese ruined electric blanket ready and waiting to be deposited in her apartment building’s incinerator.
That was until Sarah heard the dreadful tread of something even worse than vigilante cheese in the corridor behind her,
“So,” jabbed the gruff voice of a remorseless and stupendously oversized Ritz Cracker as it rolled into view through Sarah’s bedroom doorway. “You really think this is over do you?”