Hole Open

 Denis Diderot has found a saucer, and placed the spoon on it.

The foam on the spoon quivers,

Done, says Denis Diderot. Anything else?

Examine the hole in the muffin, says Gaius. 

Denis examines the hole in the muffin.

At least it's stopped coughing, says Denis. 

Is all the foam out? asks Gaius.

I believe so, says Denis. Though there may be some residue.

What's residue? asks Terence.

Remaining particles, says Gaius. 

So what do we do? asks Terence.

Either we fill the hole in the muffin, or we leave it open, says Gaius.

What's your suggestion? asks Denis.

Ask the muffin, says Gaius. Now hold still, Terence. I'm attaching your claw.

Denis addresses the muffin.

Would you prefer we left your hole open, or closed? asks Denis.

Wen-I-no-wear, says the muffin.

That's not an answer, says Denis. All right. I'll ask it another way.

Again he addresses the muffin.

Would you prefer your hole open? asks Denis. 

The muffin would prefer his hole closed, but not with just anything.

That foam was disgusting.

He wants it closed, says Terence. He wants to be like he was. And he wants to have wings.

The muffin is grateful to Terence, for knowing his feelings.

Good, says Gaius. See to it, Denis. I need to wash my hands before my fingers stick together.

Sure, says Denis.

He is still thinking of Henriette, and how she will be amused by this story. 

So he will amuse her.

He picks up the muffin. Holds it, cupped in two hands.

His fingers meet around the middle of the muffin.

He squeezes. The hole closes.

He  puts it down.

What did you do to the muffin? cries Terence.

Reshaped it, says Denis. No hole, see? But it's still the same muffin.

Terence looks at his muffin.

It is taller and thinner. 

Its seedy eyes are misaligned.

It's not the same muffin.