Everything with four legs, including the table.

Image: https://www.facebook.com/writingprompts.t/

I watch as hands greedily grope for the most high quality foods, apples and clementines lay on the table untouched as people rush towards a variety birds with flight on their minds, a few taking flight. A large muscle of a teen dissects what was labelled a kangaroo burger and just eats the patty, bites flying as he chews with his mouth open. He jumps, an impossible fifteen feet in the air, and then kicks the girl next to him that had just sprouted gills and webbed hands from a spoonful of blood orange caviar. She went flailing, hit the possibly brick wall of the room and lay still.

One girl cracked open a golden goose egg, poured the thing into a challis and drank. Instantly the challis turned to gold. That's right, there had been that online post about a boy getting the Midas touch a few years ago. What the table offered changed daily, but many foods offered roundabouts the same powers. Birds usually equaled flying, which made travel easy and offered a wide range of job opportunities. Mole was rumored to give you amazing digging capabilities and night vision, but was especially rare to find on the table. Supposedly governments instantly recruited all mole powered individuals.

Unfortunately I didn't see any mole available, except some Mexican mole sauced chicken which no one had touched, probably for fear of becoming super diarrhea man... There were chicken feet seasoned in chili peppers, those looked promising. Historians suggested that chickens were where the Phoenix legends came from in Asian lore. Looking closely though, I noticed a pile of ashes on the floor in front of them.

There had been quite a few people who wanted to study the room, see who or what brought the food and set the table, but the room automatically kicked out everyone after two hours, and no one got to see the room twice. Scientists couldn't even map where the room was in the world.

I eyed the table, concern growing that was it just my eyes or was the food dwindling down? There were less people too, most having eaten and been popped out of the room moments after. Those of us who were left were looking at a cornucopia of fruit (everyone knew those powers were useless, unless you were scared of doctors or disease, in which case there was a .5% chance of becoming immune to all diseases if you ate an apple, the other 99.5% usually became excellent self-juicers, great for kids teachers and pedophiles), some burgers (cows usually offered self-milking rather than juicing, though some forums say that the certain gods and goddesses were created from eating cow- sacrilege for some, opportunity for others), the untouched chicken mole, and a variety of condiments.

Someone reached for the sriracha at the same time I realized...the table. There had been a rumor that maybe the table was the source of the food and the powers. Circling it, I looked for a weak spot, my heart thumping. It was insane, but what if... what if I ate the table? Would I get all the powers that the table offered? All I needed was a taste... just a splinter. If it didn't work, I could always try the mole.

There! A bit of wood was sticking out, like someone had nicked the edge of the table with a butchers knife once. I zeroed in on it as the sriracha eater breathed fire, singeing the eyebrows off the boy across the table from her, a good seven or more feet away.

I bit the wood sticking out with the intention to swallow, no chewing. Immediately the world shifted, and I was surrounded by a a large group of teens, my age. The walls were the same as before, some sort of dull brick gray and the lighting was dim. Only... it was as though I was looking up at them from the floor and my chest... felt heavy. I tried to turn around but nothing happened, I opened my mouth to scream, but no. Teens descended on me, hands grabbing at what I offered. A sickly boy took an armful of apples, biting into as many as he could before getting ejected from the room. Another person burst into a puddle, and another started shooting quills into the people behind him. Then, after a few more minutes darkness, quiet.

A man stepped forward, eyes green, beard red. "So you bit the table."