"blood spurted up from beverly’s fortune cookie as if from a slashed artery. it splashed across her hand and then gouted onto the white napery which covered the table, staining it a bright red that sank in and then spread out in grasping pink fingers.
eddie kaspbrak uttered a strangled cry and pushed himself away from the table with such a sudden revolted confusion of arms and legs that his chair nearly tipped over. a huge bug, its chitinous carapace an ugly yellow-brown, was pushing its way out of his fortune cookie as if from a cocoon. its obsidian eyes stared blindly forward. as it lurched onto eddie’s bread-and-butter plate, cookie crumbs fell from its back in a little shower that bill heard clearly and which came back to haunt his dreams when he slept for awhile later that afternoon. as it freed itself entirely it rubbed its thin rear legs together, producing a dry reedy hum, and bill realized it was some sort of terribly mutated cricket. it lumbered to the edge of the dish and tumbled onto the tablecloth on its back.
'oh god!' richie managed in a chocked voice. 'oh god big bill it’s an eye dear god it’s an eye a fucking eye-'
bill’s head snapped around and he saw richie staring down at his fortune cookie, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a kind of sickened leer. a chunk of his cookie’s glazed surface had fallen onto the tablecloth, revealing a hole from which a human eyeball stared with glazed intensity. cookie crumbs were scattered across its blank brown iris and embedded in its sclera.
ben hanscome threw his- not a calculated throw but the startled reaction of a person who has been utterly surprised by some piece of nasty work. as his fortune cookie rolled across the table bill saw two teeth inside its hollow, their roots dark with clotted blood. they rattled together like seeds in a hollow gourd.
he looked back at beverly and saw she was hitching in breath to scream. her eyes were fixed on the ting that had crawled out of eddie’s cookie, the thing that was now kicking its sluggish legs as it lay overturned on the tablecloth."
...
"...bill had not opened his own fortune cookie, but now he could see its sides moving slowly in and out-bulge, relax, bulge and relax, bulge and relax- as his own party-favor tried to escape."
...
“bill heard a minute cracking sound. he looked down at his plate and saw a leg poking blindly out of his fortune cookie. it scraped at his plate...richie was looking at bill’s plate. a great grayish-black fly was slowly birthing itself from the collapsing remains of his cookie. it buzzed weakly. yellowish goo flowed sluggishly out of the cookie and puddled on the tablecloth. there was a smell now, the bland thick smell of an infected wound."
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