The hunger games

I give the Chief Minion a doleful look. The plan is working, her face registers concern and she pauses for a moment, her hand on her hip. She turns and rummages in the cupboard of delights, looking triumphant she opens another pouch.

Another favourite,  Applaws tuna with cheese is decanted into a small bowl. She walks towards me making encouraging sounds and proffers the delicious morsels for my perusal. I want the food very much. She gently nudges me towards the gourmet spread but I sit tight, unmoving. I watch in horror as a large globule of saliva falls from my mouth, it seems to travel in slow motion and then explodes as it makes contact with the floor, the stain of shame spreads on the laminate wood - my wanting revealed in all it's glory.

The hunger strike is over.

In my defence, it did last for at least 5 minutes.

Non nom nom..........