Arthur froze. The clock was ticking. He had twenty more breakfasts to get through if he wanted to reach the legendary "Golden Waffle" of the Great Beyond. He looked at the spilled milk, the airborne fruit loops, and the pancake currently acting as a hat.
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He didn't have muscles, but he had spirit. With a sudden, spastic lunge, he grabbed the entire table and flipped it into the air. If he couldn't bring the food to his mouth, he would simply let the chaos of the universe deliver it. Arthur froze
Across the graveyard, a ghoul named Barnaby paused while polishing a marble slab. "Having a bit of trouble with the physics, Artie?" He looked at the spilled milk, the airborne