Balloon VS Blueberry

“There’s no way that can be true.”

One day, you and I run into a little disagreement. I like to inflate myself like a balloon. I wear very loose clothing capable of stretching with my expandable body. You, on the other hand, wear a light blue tracksuit, also capable of expansion, but signifies that you are a blueberry fan.

We’re just trying to decide who has it better.

“It is so too true!”, I say to you. “Balloons have the better variety than lousy blueberries.”

“Variety?”, you question.

“Yeah, variety. Everyone knows balloons can be inflated in many ways, whether it’s air, helium, water, you name it. Best part is, no matter what they’re filled with, they’re always easy to bounce and roll around. And what about you? The only way you’ll ever be inflated like a big, heavy blueberry is with a single stick of gum!”

“That’s not completely true! They’ve tried it on actual blueberries, too. It’s SCIENCE that gets it done.”

“Just admit it,” I snap. “Balloons outwit blueberries in every way possible.”

You scoff with a smirk at that statement. “‘Every way possible’, huh? Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” You pull out a piece of blue gum from your pocket and pop it in your mouth. Only seconds after you start chewing, your skin turns blue, starting with your nose, then your arms, then your everything. The sound of gurgling and juices can be heard as you start to fill up, growing taller and taller than me by the moment. Once your body grows six feet tall, with your limbs rendered completely useless, you roll right on top of me, squishing me under your newfound blueberry mass.

“Hah! See?”, you laugh at me. “I may be ‘heavy’, but blueberries can squash balloons like bugs. And I’m just getting started.”

You blow a small quick bubble and it pops. More gurgling is heard while you grow an additional four feet, with your head, hands, and feet sinking into your body. While that’s happening, my normal body is getting crushed under the weight and deflates until I look like a flat balloon. Once your growth subsides again, I manage to escape from under you.

“Look at you now,” you taunt, noticing my flat appearance, “flat as a piece of paper. Guess blueberries have the upper hand in the end, huh?”

Well, I’m not about to throw in the towel like that. Luckily, I came prepared. In my pocket is a miniature magic gas compressor, set with a hose that connects with it. I just make the most of my flattened body to stick that hose in my mouth, then the machine in my pocket automatically turns on.

Just like that, I begin to inflate as well, first back to my normal shape, then starting to billow out altogether. My limbs too render useless in a matter of minutes. With my head, hands and feet sinking into my body, I continue to grow and grow until I’m one foot bigger than you are right now.

“Who has the upper hand now?!” I taunt with the hose still in my mouth. “You can try to squish me again, but I’ll bet you just bounce back.”

“That’s only because you’re a size taller,” you point out. “But surely we can fix that.” You blow another bubble to pop, and you gurgle and grow again, reaching my size, then surpassing it. But I, hose already in place, close my mouth to inflate again, to try and catch up to your size. Seeing that I’m trying to keep up with you, you concentrate on blowing more bubbles, bigger ones this time, to grow even larger than before.

The feud goes on for several minutes. By then, we’ve become 50-foot giants, with zero evidence of us being human left except our belly buttons. Both of us decide it’s time to nip it in the bud. You just finish blowing up the biggest bubble you could blow to pop, while I close my mouth and start sucking up all the air from the hose while breathing in through my nose. We simultaneously expand, creak, and groan until…

*BOOM!* *SPLAT!*

We both end up exploding, you covering your surroundings with blueberry juice, me emitting a burst of wind over the surrounding area. After coming to from the rush, we look around at the combined mess of our explosions, then we look at each other, then laugh.

“Guess it doesn’t matter who really comes out on top in the end, huh?”, I say to you.

“Ditto,” you reply. “Sorry we ended up in a feud to figure that out, though.”

“Me, too. Let’s just agree that everyone has their own way of inflating themselves.”

“Deal. Say, is that machine you have in your pocket still on?”

“And do I see another stick of gum in yours?”

Minutes later, the 50-foot spheres return, this time with me being the blueberry, and you being the blimp. From this we can learn that with gas or no gas, liquid or no liquid, or anything else in between, there’s at least one thing all belly busters have in common:

They have a knack of getting huge.

*SPLAT!* *BOOM!*