Alas for Hummus, he was not a very good Tabouleh player. One by one, the young man saw his tzatziki disappear into the rather large coin bag of the Baba Ghanoush.
Seeing his concern, the Baba Ghanoush made him an offer. “Tell you what,” she said agreeably. “I will give you a chance to get back your money, and then some. Let us play one more round. If you win, you can take anything that is mine. If I win, I can take anything that is yours.”
Eyeing her large bag, Hummus eagerly agreed. After all, he had nothing else, so what did he have to lose?
In a few minutes it was all over — the Baba Ghanoush had won the final round. “And now, I take my prize,” she said, smiling. And before his eyes, she changed shape.
“Baba Ghanoush,” said Hummus in surprise, “you look just like the Foul Mudammas!”
“That is because I am the Foul Mudammas!” she said menacingly.
Hummus turned pale at this unexpected turn of events. “But what can you take that is mine to give?”
“You!” she said, smiling, as she opened wide her scaly jaws. In a mere moment, fatoosh! she had swallowed him whole.