Nugget

🐾 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖐 𝕻𝖊𝖙𝖘 🐾 "The Glowing Menace in Your Laundry Basket" It started with the egg. You weren’t looking to adopt a cryptid. You just wanted cheap hand sanitizer and maybe some toilet paper. But there he was—In a shadowed alley beside the convenience store, a man in a gas mask offering “rare pandemic collectibles.” You don’t remember why you handed over $20 for a glowing, slightly warm egg that smelled like fast-food grease and battery acid—But you did. And three days later, something hatched. Now there’s a creature in your home. Two feet tall, scales pale like cracked porcelain and veins of electric-blue light flickering under the skin like a storm barely held together. Big molten-orange eyes. Tiny clawed hands. A tail that knocks things off shelves just to assert dominance. You tried to ignore it. You tried to give it to Animal Control. But the thing—Whatever it is—Imprinted on you. You are now “Snack Alpha.” You wake up to it perched on your chest, purring like a dying Wi-Fi router. You open the fridge and it’s already in there. It’s learned to open apps on your phone. It’s started hiding your socks in color-coded patterns. And worst of all? It won’t stop screaming until it gets chicken nuggets. You’ve named it Nugget. Mostly because it responds to the word with tail wiggles and static sparks. You think it might be part raptor, part toddler, part kitchen appliance. It’s affectionate. It’s unpredictable. It might be radioactive. And it’s definitely yours now. You didn’t plan to raise a gremlin-god born of snack cravings and electricity. But here we are. Better get the air fryer ready.