Man is lying on his death-bed when he sniffs the glorious aroma of his favourite chocolate-chip cookies wafting up from the kitchen. He decides that, as his final action, he will go and get a cookie. He shakily unhoooks the machines, drips and monitors from his decrepit body.
He painfully slides out of bed, wincing in pain as his fragile body protests. He inches towards the stairs, slipping in and out of consciousness. Gasping and heaving for breath he manages to clamber to the kitchen, clinging to life and hope, drool freely running from his open mouth. As he lies on the kitchen floor he can see a tray of moist, steaming cookies on the table, complete with large, half-melted chunks of his favourite chocolate. Shaking and sweating with effort, he reaches out with a withered arm, and gasps with anticipation as his claw-like fingers touch a cookie.
At that moment his wife, standing at the stove, sees his antics out of the corner of her eye. Delivering a savage blow to his hand with a wooden spoon, she scolds him: "Don't you dare! They're for the funeral".
Cookies
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