It was gone 11pm, and a skinny small boy, Luke Jones, was lying awake in his bed, unable to get to sleep. He had a problem: He was starving! He couldn't think why though, he had finished his dinner, and pudding, and even had a snack, but still he was hungry. Luke turned over in his bed, and tried to go to sleep, trying to put the pangs out of his mind, but they refused to go away.
Finally, after trying to go to sleep for what seemed an age, he decided that he had to get something to eat. Gingerly, he tiptoed accross the carpet of his bedrrom, and eased the door open.
After waiting for a moment so that his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he continued slowly down the hall, desperate to not make any noise. At the top of the stairs, he grabbed hold of the banister, and quietly descended the staircase.
Feeling his foot hit the floor at the bottom, Luke let go of the banister, and headed to his left, towards the kitchen. He slowly and gently opened the kitchen door, and slipped through, closing it quickly and quietly behind him.
In the kitchen, Luke couldn't believe his luck. His mother was always telling him to eat healthily, and restricted the size of his meal portions, as she did with his younger sister. But now he had all the food in the house at his disposal. Or did he?
"Better not have too much of one thing, mum'll notice," he whispered to himself, and decided to take a small amount of a few things. He opened one of the cupboards, and began rumaging for the biscuits.
He quickly found them, and removed several from the packet, eating them absent-mindedly. After about eight, he heard something pad on the floor behind him. Luke turned, it was...