Patato at the Supermarket

In the buzzing supermarket El Buen Sabor, where shopping carts squeaked and people wandered around hunting for the best deals, there lived a small, slippery Magikito called Patato.

He was a playful little spirit, invisible to almost every human, and he loved spending his days pulling tiny pranks. His favourite spot? The fruit and veg aisle.

That morning, Patato spotted a piece of charcoal someone had left behind, tucked between brushes and pencils on a shelf. No time wasted. He grabbed it with his teeny fingers and got to work.

Zap!

He drew a classy moustache on a massive potato.

Shoppers walked by, picked up the potatoes, and tossed them into their carts, totally clueless about the cheeky surprise waiting for them at home.

But Patato wasn’t done. With a quick little flick, he loosened a box of colourful bows meant for decorating gift baskets.

Flip, flap.

A pink bow popped up on the little florets of a broccoli.

Plop.

A blue bow tied itself around another one, like it was wearing a tiny hat.

The broccoli now looked like little ladies and gentlemen, ready to head off to some important event.

An older lady came over looking for broccoli for dinner. When she saw them, she frowned.

But… why are the broccolis looking so fancy today?

And without thinking twice, she dropped one into her cart. It had a bright yellow bow.

Patato fluttered between the shelves, laughing silently at every little joke. He even swapped the mushroom labels and gave them flower names, daisy, tulip, wild rose… He traded the small bananas for the big ones too, causing more than a few giggles and confused faces.

In the middle of all that playful chaos, a little kid walked through the veg section crying. He’d lost his mum.

Patato, who was mischievous but had a really good heart, wanted to help. So he gently rolled a carrot right up to the boy’s feet.

The kid stared, surprised, picked it up, and for a moment forgot his sadness. He started nibbling it, curious as anything. Right then, his mum appeared, relieved, and hugged him tight.

And the day slowly wrapped up. The supermarket started to empty out. The aisles went quiet. At nine at night, the guard turned off the lights and locked the doors.

Patato, tired but happy, snuggled into a basket of red apples. He closed his tiny eyes and sighed, proper satisfied.

He’d dream that the next day El Buen Sabor would fill up with people again, and he’d have fresh chances to draw moustaches, tie bows, and sprinkle a little mischievous magic into the humans’ routine.