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In an average Canadian house, there was a milk carton named Phil. He sat in the fridge day after day. He was lonely. All his friends left. Abby Apple, Perry Pear, and Chadder Cheese were his best friends. Phil became more and more depressed each time he lost a friend. Would he ever be happy? What was his purpose? What was the point?
One day, the fridge opened and Phil caught a glimpse of something unfamiliar. It was something that wasn't there before. A poster of a girl was tapped to the wall. There were big bold letters on it and he could read. He had learned to read from Great Bill the Bacon. He got to practice by reading other's labels; slutty Strawberry, bad-boy Banana, and preppy Pineapple. He studied the face carefully, deciding that she was beautiful. The girl made his milk bubble. He read what was written on the poster. "Hannah Montana", it read. Phil had never felt this was before. And for the small amount of time that she was visible, he was certain of something. He was going to find this Hannah Montana and be with her forever. And for the first time ever, Phil had a purpose.
So he waited patiently each day. Phil plotted how he could get to her but nothing was very promising. He was just a milk carton. It was improbable that he would ever meet her. He'd catch a glimpse of her face, every chance he got which increased his love for her. He was so busy planning his escape that he didn't even notice his new neighbor. This neighbor found Phil quite attractive and quickly developed feelings for him. But however hard she tried, cute Cucumber couldn't get Phil's attention.
And sadly, her love would never go noticed because the very next day, Phil ran dry. Phil was carried to the curb and thrown into a blue recycling bin which seemed to be waiting for him. As Phil lay at the bottom of the bin, soaking in various unidentifiable liquids, he felt the weight of failure pushing down on his thin, plastic skin.
All of his plans so far had nothing to do with a recycling bin. His plans instead consisted of scenarios involving flying monkeys carrying him to his beloved or stealing a billionaire's diamond encrusted jet pack and flying to Hannah Montana himself. Something not as boring as being recycled. Phil didn't even know where he would be recycled to he realized in dismay. But there was no way of knowing his own luck. He couldn't possible know that this was the ticket he'd been waiting for all this time. This was his chance to finally meet the love of his life.
That following morning, he was recycled and filled once again with cow liquid. Then he was shipped off to America; Hollywood to be exact. He's read on the bottom of the poster something about Hollywood and couldn't believe he actually was shipped there. It was like the universe was on his side. Maybe some higher power was at work? He waited with the others in the grocery store. Phil trembled with anticipation as well as the cold of the fridge.
He practiced what he would say to her when they final met. Maybe he would start off romantic and then ask for her hand in marriage. Or he could be a bit more subtle and take it slow with a nice first date. Some candles, a nice lit fireplace, and a heaping plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
As Phil went over several possible conversation starters, he realized something. The chances of him being shipped here at all were small enough but the chances of the person he wished to spend the rest of eternity with to purchase him were even more microscopic. Phil was unsure of how he'd be able to get to her from here. He couldn't just grow legs and find her himself. The chances were unbelievably impossible. The container in front of him was removed and he slid in its place. He looked each and every day for that smile that could fuel a thousand stars but never did it show.
A man came around one day, his eyes scanning the others around him before landing on him. The man smiled and opened the door, reaching for him. No, no, NOO! This isn't what Phil wanted. This wasn't his love. He couldn't move so he couldn't fight back. He was carried to the kitchen then the fridge. He sat in the dark wondering how things could've gone so wrong. One day, the fridge opened and instead of the man, it was a girl. A half-shaved head and clothes that revealed a little too much. The girl looks around but doesn't find anything she wants. Phil studies the features of her face. He could've sworn that he recognized that face.
The girl suddenly shouts "Daniel! Where are my beers??" Phil perks up for a second. He's heard that voice before. "Wait never mind!! I found them!" That's the voice that sung the songs that were played in the Canadian house all the time. She grabs a beer a shelf down from Phil and opens it up with a smile. Phil could've sworn the beer bragging.
The girl took a swig and hummed. As Phil took a closer look at the girl, he noticed her eyes and teeth. He could recognize those anywhere. They belonged to the face he'd stared at for weeks. His beloved was right in front of him! He bubbled in excitement at finally coming face to face with his soul mate. But that excitement soon turned to coal resentment and hatred as he watched Miley smooch it up with that bastard beer.
He watched in horror as the fridge door was closed and he was left in darkness and fear, listening to the noises that were being made from the other side of the fridge. He cried invisible tears and wept in silence. If only he'd been recycled into a beer bottle. Then that would've been him. It seemed like it was meant to be. The chances for him to be here were unbelievable unlikely and yet, here he was, sitting in a dark refrigerator, sulking. Everything was going so well he's not really sure what went so wrong.
He hears laughter from the other side. But through his non-existing tears, he sees a light in front of him. The bluish red hue illuminates the cold fridge walls. An old bunch of grapes, way past their due date appears out of the light. She wore a shiny silver crown encrusted with what appeared to be blueberries, carrots, and french-fries. Her back revealed blue, sparkly wings and in her grasp, she held a blue wand with surprisingly more sparkles than her wings. A blanket of makeup buried her face and eye makeup tried to improve the beady eyes but failed. She brushes off some of the sparkles that had gathered on her wrinkly lumps with her blue arms. Wait, her arms? Phil looks over her limbs that were attached to her like that of a human's with awe. How could this fruit have limbs? As he pondered this question along with others, the fruit had walked, yes walked, over to Phil. Straightening her crown, she looks at Phil with pity. Then she opens her mouth.
"Hello dearie." she creaks out with a voice shattered by time. "I'm your Great Grape Grandma!" she bursts out with enthusiasm. Phil was overwhelmed with confusion. He didn't know he was related to any fruits. Or what he knew anyways. She looks at Phil with expectation but probably didn't know Phil couldn't speak.
After two long, awkward minutes, she finally gets the idea. Her smile fades slightly but just as soon as it does, it bounces back up. "Oh! Silly me. You can't speak. But I can help with that. Don't you worry now!" and with a flick of her wand, Phil could feel himself changing. He could move something. A mouth! Grape smiled at her work. "There ya go." She exhaled.
"That's better isn't it? Now say something." Phil inhales and speaks for the first time.
"Um. Hi. A, B, C. 1, 2, 3. Testing, testing." Phil quickly got used to his new found feature.
"Yes right. Now then. Do you want to be able to walk like me?" she questioned.
"Well, not like you. No. I don't want to waddle like I don't have joints. I wanna impress a lady and I don't want to look constipated." Phil reasons sarcastically. Grape glares menacingly at Phil before regaining her composure.
"Okay then." She says, some of her earlier excitement destroyed. "Here ya go." Phil feels the familiar feel of change as he watches white feet sprout out from under him as well as arms from his sides. "So. What do ya think? Too long? Too short maybe?"
"No. Not at all." Phil breathes. "They're perfect." Phil stands and falls back down faster than when he got up. "Oh shit!" he mutters. His milky insides slosh unattractively around and if he had skin, he'd be blushing from embarrassment. He gets back up and this time he stays up. Phil jumps and stretches his new limbs.
"Well now you can go impress that girl you've been wallowing about." She reasons. "I know you've just been dying to meet her." Phil smiles with a new found motivation.
"You're right!" Phil exclaims and walks over to the fridge door. But he stops, his hand hesitating on the cold plastic. He sighs "But wait. That beer. He has her right now. I can't compete with him. He's all Miley ever needs."
"Oh dearie." She pities. "How do you know she doesn't like milk?"
"Well, you're not wrong." Phil draws.
"Yes. I'm not. So go on. Talk to her." Grape encourages. Phil lifts himself up again and pushes the door with all his might. Nothing. Phil sighs with disappointment.
"I can't do it." He exclaims with defeat.
"Geez. Do I have to do everything around here? I mean come on!" and in a split second, the door opens with a cloud of sparkles. Phil, since he was leaning on the door, fell backwards and out of the fridge. Bam! Onto the floor he fell. A gasp sounded from somewhere above him. He felt hands grab him and lift him up. He opened his eyes to two very beautiful ones. He looked back at the fridge. Grape was smiling and waving.
"My work here is done. Bye-bye dearie! Good luck!" and just like that, she disappeared into a puff of sparkles. Miley closed the fridge and stared at Phil with a great deal of confusion.
"What the hell are you?" she questioned with a small smile and furrowed eyebrows. Phil returned it and laughed quietly.
"I'm not a hundred percent sure!" he laughed out in something like disbelief. Miley sets Phil on the counter and leans against the wall, looking at Phil. Phil smiles under her gaze. Then he notices the beer bottle next to him. That damn bottle. Phil glares at it and slowly walks up behind it. Miley gives him a curious look.
"What are you..." but before Miley finishes her sentence, Phil places his hands on the bottle and shoves it violently onto the floor. Miley gasps as it shatters into a million pieces onto the tile. "What the hell was that for!" she yells. Phil's heart drops with the sudden change in atmosphere. Did he do something wrong? He must have.
"I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just don't think he was the right kind of guy for you. Plus, I don't like beer." he apologizes as best as he can but to no avail. It seemed Miley wasn't having any of it.
"Just stop. Okay!" she mutters. "Daniel!" she screams. Footsteps get louder and the man who bought him and brought him to Miley rushed in.
"Yes miss?"
"Yeah. Clean this up." She commands. He goes and gets a broom. He hadn't noticed Phil until he started brushing up the shattered bastard. "Uh miss.?" He starts. "What in God's name is that!" he asks and points a wrinkly finger at the confused milk carton.
"Heh well, That's a good question. One that I would like the answer to." She glares at Phil.
"Well, I'm a milk carton." He starts. "And. And I'm originally from Canada. Uh I was recycled and your male slave is the one who bought me. That's about it." Daniel and Miley just stand there and stare at Phil.
"Well why can you speak and why the hell do you have arms and legs?!"
"Oh a magical grape fairy gave them to me." Phil states as if it were the most normal thing in the universe.
"Okay I'm just gonna pretend like I believe that. And I don't know exactly what to do next. Well let's start with what you want?" Miley says
"Alright. I am deeply in love with you. How's that?" Phil breathes out.
"Um excuse me? You love me? That's ridiculous." She spits. "How could I love a heap of plastic? I mean you don't have a dick. How could we love each other?!"
"Damn, I should've asked for a penis." He mutters under his breath. Why didn't he think of that? Of course she couldn't love him if he didn't meet her physical needs. Miley stands up and walks over to Phil. Phil gives her a hopeful smile. But all she does is glare down at him.
"I'm sorry but I can't love someone like you." She states coldly and grabs him roughly.
"But, but I promise I can make you happy!"
"Doubt it" she walks through the house with a begging Phil in her hands.
"I'll have a penis transplanted to me."
"That's disgusting."
"Well, uh, I can write you romantic poetry!"
"It's probably shitty."
"No, no! Here I'll give you a sample!"
"Okay. But this is your last chance." She stops in the hallway.
"Roses are red, violets are blue. Kitties love me, and yours will too."
"Oh my god!" she laughs and falls to the floor laughing her ass off.
"Was that good enough?" Phil asks in a hopeful tone.
"Yeah oh god that was amazing!" she laughs out.
"So I can stay?"
"Oh hell yes!" she stands up and walks back to the kitchen with Phil. "Daniel, I'll be in my room with Phil!"
"Yeah I'm gonna go milk the cow!" And with that, Phil and Miley lived a happy, kinky life.
The End