Yay! It’s the weekend!!! So that can really only mean ONE THING!!
Each week 
You can find this week’s first prompt here: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/weekend-freewrite-8-24-2019-part-1-the-first-sentence
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"You wouldn't," said Tom, horrified, taking a step back from her. Sally took a step forward holding the stick of celery out towards him.
"Try me!" she said.
Tom looked as though he was going to be sick.
"Leave him alone, Sal," I said, leaning back on my chair. "You know he has a phobia."
Sal turned and waved the celery at me. "How can anyone have a phobia of a vegetable?" she asked. Tom, seeing Sally was distracted for a moment, leapt around the kitchen table and headed for the safety of the door.
"I can't explain it," he said, poking his head around the door. I could see the beads of sweat standing out on his head. "But it's real."
Sally through the celery at Tom, who ducked and disappeared. I heard the sound of the downstairs toilet being opened, slammed shut and being bolted shut.
"You are very mean," I said.
"Oh for heaven's sake," Sally said walking past me and kicking at the chair leg I was sitting on. I was ready for her and caught the edge of the table, slowing the fall of the chair, and sparing my head from making contact with the floor.
…
He spoke from the shadows beside the door.
"I'll join. I want to join."
Jim was still in his PJs his hair sticking up as though he had just climbed out of bed, even though it was three in the afternoon.
"Join what?" I said from my rather uncomfortable position on the floor. Sally gave Jim the stick of celery.
"Get chopping Jim-lad. We have celery soup to make."
Jim blinked. "Soup?"
I carefully extricated myself from the chair/floor interface I found myself in and stood up.
"Sally has decided she is going vegan," I explained. "And apparently so are we."
Jim blinked again. "I'm already vegan," he said.
I frowned. "Are you? I didn't know."
"We don't all go on about it," Jim said and handed Sally back the stick of celery, making his way to the kettle.
"Tea? You can't have that in here," he said, nodding to the vegetable in Sally's hand. "Tom has a phobia of celery. It makes him come out in hives."
…
"Is it a phobia or an allergy?" Sally said. "You can't come out in hives from a phobia."
Jim poured boiling water on the teabag he had placed in a large mug.
"Tom does. Where is Tom, anyway?"
"Toilet. Hiding from the celery."
"You can't have a phobia of a vegetable. That’s not normal."
"You get sick whenever you smell overripe banana's." Jim said, bashing the teabag with a teaspoon before hooking it out and flipping in into the bin. "That's not normal."
"Bananas are weird," Sally said.
"You're weird," Jim said. He snatched the celery from Sally's hand and threw it into the bin on top of his teabag. "You can't torment Tom with celery. It is cruel."
"That's what I said." I rubbed my arse cheek. I was going to have a bruise, for sure.
Sally reached into the bin and removed the celery. "You can't waste food."
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As usual, I used themostdangerouswritingapp.com to write each five-minute freewrite (and then tidied it up a bit in google docs afterward):
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