Snackland had never experienced a traffic jam.
Mainly because everyone walked.
But today was different.
Obesseus waddled toward Pepperoni Bridge with Grant the Grapefruit carrying his licorice broom over his shoulder.
“I smell nuggets,” Obesseus announced, sniffing the air dramatically.
Grant nodded. “That’s because there’s a Nugget Hut on the other side of the bridge.”
The two rounded the corner.
“…Uh oh.”
The bridge was completely blocked.
Hundreds of bright orange traffic cones stretched from one end to the other.
Except in Snackland…
They weren’t orange plastic.
They were giant vanilla ice cream cones.
Some had chocolate-dipped tops.
Some were waffle cones.
One had rainbow sprinkles.
Obesseus stared in horror.
“…Why would anyone waste perfectly good cones?”
A whistle shrieked.
Captain Calorie Counter marched into view wearing a reflective safety vest that simply read:
NO FUN ROAD CREW
“Bridge closed!” he shouted.
“What happened?” Grant asked.
Captain Calorie Counter smiled far too proudly.
“Nothing.”
“…Nothing?”
“I closed it.”
“…You closed it because…?”
“It looked convenient.”
Obesseus blinked.
“So…there’s no construction?”
“No.”
“No broken bridge?”
“No.”
“No giant gravy spill?”
“No.”
“No muffin ninja attack?”
“No.”
Captain Calorie Counter proudly unfolded an enormous map.
“If you’d like to continue, you’ll need to take the official detour.”
Grant studied it.
“…This goes through the Salad Syndicate camp.”
“It certainly does.”
“The camp that throws kale.”
“Correct.”
“The camp with the cabbage catapults.”
“Exactly.”
“The camp that forces people to eat plain lettuce.”
Captain Calorie Counter grinned.
“Now you’re understanding city planning.”
Obesseus crossed his arms.
“You made traffic just so people have to eat salad?”
“I prefer the term healthy rerouting.”
Just then, a family of French fries approached.
“We just need to cross the bridge.”
Captain Calorie Counter pointed dramatically.
“Detour!”
“But we’re literally twenty feet away.”
“Detour!”
An elderly Meatball rolled up.
“I’ve crossed this bridge for forty years.”
“Detour!”
A pizza delivery scooter stopped.
“My pepperoni is getting cold.”
Captain Calorie Counter gasped.
“Excellent.”
Grant leaned toward Obesseus.
“I think he’s enjoying this.”
“I noticed.”
Captain Calorie Counter wasn’t finished.
He produced an even bigger sign.
DETOUR EXPECTED DELAY: 6 HOURS
Grant looked around.
“The bridge is only thirty feet long.”
“Correct.”
“…How is the detour six hours?”
“It includes mandatory salad appreciation seminars.”
Obesseus nearly fainted.
A tiny crouton handed everyone pamphlets titled:
‘Ranch Dressing Is a Privilege, Not a Right.’
Captain Calorie Counter smiled proudly.
“Attendance is mandatory.”
That was enough.
Obesseus slowly reached into his pocket.
Grant whispered, “Rice ball?”
Obesseus nodded.
The legendary Pocket Rice Ball appeared.
Captain Calorie Counter laughed.
“You can’t defeat proper traffic management with carbohydrates.”
Obesseus smiled.
“Maybe not…”
He tossed the rice ball high into the air.
Every pigeon in Snackland dove toward it at once.
Thousands of hungry birds swarmed the bridge.
They gobbled every ice cream cone traffic marker in seconds.
Chocolate.
Vanilla.
Waffle.
Gone.
Captain Calorie Counter watched his entire roadblock disappear.
“…My cones…”
One pigeon politely burped.
Without the cones, everyone simply walked across Pepperoni Bridge.
The French fries cheered.
The meatball rolled across.
The pizza scooter zipped away.
Nobody even glanced at the Salad Syndicate.
Captain Calorie Counter collapsed onto the pavement.
“My perfectly unnecessary traffic…”
Obesseus walked past, carrying a pepperoni pizza the size of a wagon wheel.
“You know…”
Captain Calorie Counter looked up hopefully.
“I could still close the bridge tomorrow.”
Obesseus smiled.
“I’ll bring hungry pigeons tomorrow.”
Grant chuckled.
“I think we just solved traffic forever.”
As the heroes disappeared into the sunset, Captain Calorie Counter quietly replaced one tiny sign.
SLOW… BECAUSE I SAID SO.
Nobody listened.
Even the sign ignored itself and fell over.