“‘How dare you try and disturb my marvelous taco shells! You may not touch my taco shells! You may not eat my taco shells! You may not even look at them! Now, shoo! Begone with you!'”
My name is Jerry and I’m a giant. I live in The Forests, which is a group of (try and guess!) forests that protect different species of fairy. One day, I was visiting my friend Luna in The Pixie Forests, when suddenly I came upon a very interesting cottage that was big enough for me to fit. The door was open and there was smoke coming from the chimney. I decided to have a look. I went inside and found something beautiful! It looked as though it was made of gold and had tiny black speckles on it. I wanted to touch it! I needed to have it! I bent down to touch it, and alarms started to go off! A head with a crown fell from the chimney.
I know, you’re thinking, “ Eww, a head with no body!” But it wasn’t gross. It was the king of the Pixies, King Headless, which is kind of ironic. He had once been a Pixie but lost his body in a battle. He rolled on to his round chin and looked at me with red eyes. (He was a Pixie. They do these things.)
“How dare you try and disturb my marvelous taco shells! You may not touch my taco shells! You may not eat my taco shells! You may not even look at them! Now, shoo! Begone with you!”
I bowed down to the king and got out of there as quickly as I could. When I got to Luna’s yard (I couldn’t fit in her house) I sat down and told her the story.
When I was finished, Luna said, “We can make our own taco shells! We just need to find out what ingredients we need.”
“That’s a bit of a problem since the King won’t let me go back to the cottage.”
“Well, everything we make is made with flour, so there must be some in these.”
I nodded. Luna was smart in these ways.
“What color were the shells?”
“They were a golden shade.”
“Well, I’ll bring all of the yellow plants I grow in my garden, and we’ll see what I can ground into powder.” She came back with a banana, corn, and a pear. “I’ll make six of each using these.”
An hour later, the batch made with banana was ready. It looked flat, nothing like the shells I saw at the cottage. When I sampled it, boy, was it awful! It was as though a unicorn had pooped on them. Believe me, that stuff is memorable, in all the wrong ways! After gargling for five minutes or so, we waited for the next group. Frankly, that wasn’t any better!
“What am I going to do?” I moaned.
“Quit worrying. It’s just food! Geez!”
Easy for her to say! Did she see them? No. Was she attacked by a weird headless dude in a cape and crown? No. Did she feel pulled into the smell of the shells? I rest my case!
“Well, little miss —” I didn’t get the chance to finish my insult because the final six shells were ready. We took them out and were going to sample it, but it was already 20 o’clock, so we decided to save them for (a disgusting) breakfast. Luna invited me to sleep in the backyard, which was the most comfortable yard I had slept in. Grass cutting season must have been moved back a few months! While I was sleeping, I had a dream about the marvelous tacos. They were dancing around me and singing elvish songs.
I was reaching toward one, when they started to bang on each other and shout, “Jerry! Jerry, wake up!”
I did their bidding and woke up to the sound of Luna banging on a frying pan and shouting my name.
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! We have an emergency here!”
“Ah, Eho, what?”
“My cousin, Francesco Ferdinando is coming, and we have nothing to serve him!”
“You want us to cook something? You saw how badly those tacos worked out!”
“Well, if we serve those to him, he could fix them. He is a farmer, food-seller, and sampler by trade! He’ll have something to fix them.”
Just then, the braying of a donkey interrupted my thoughts drifting back to dancing tacos. Near the horizon, a man was riding a donkey. He was wearing a sombrero and had a mustache even I was jealous of! He shouted something in what sounded like gibberish, with a bunch of “r’s”. To my surprise, Luna answered back.
“You speak Gibberish? I have got to introduce you to the Fuzzball colony elders!”
“It’s Spanish, idiot!” answered an angry Luna with a fake smile.
Must be some alien language. I ran behind the house, stuck my finger in the window, and was just about to say, “Hi!” when the donkey kicked its legs backward. Apparently, Francesco was carrying his food in baskets attached to his saddle. Everything was flying up!
“MI ALIMENTO!!” Francesco shouted in Gibberish.
Luna got so nervous that she cast a slo-mo spell! I dived to save the food, but then realized I forgot to put the tray down! Too late now. I was already diving head first to the ground. Luna snapped her fingers and everything went back to normal time. I fell to the ground and so did the food, causing a five-second earthquake. I’ve got to cut back on weight! Luckily, when the food fell, it fell into the taco shells.
“Here, have your things back!” I said, holding out the tray.
He shook his head and muttered something to Luna.
She told me, “He wants to try his food with the taco shells.”
Francesco formed the taco to hold in the ingredients. He took one bite and instantly smiled, danced around, and sang Gibberish songs!
“He likes it!” laughed Luna.
“That is the one thing you don’t need to translate for me.” I smiled. “Why don’t we make this official? Like, think of a name for this treat?!” I thought aloud.
Luna liked the idea, and asked Francesco if he agreed.“He likes the idea but wants to name it after his donkey. After all, he was the one that caused the food to fly!” translated Luna.
“What’s the mule’s name?”
“Burrito.”
And that’s how burritos came to be!
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