Here it is, enjoy.
For as long as he could remember, Chompa was trapped in a gigantic greenhouse. He longed for escape, tired of eating flies and beetles. “When am I gonna get some real food?” he asked an azalea, which of course said nothing. “All the plants here are mean.” he said.
Chompa plotted his escape with his best friend, the Rafflesia. “Soon we will get out of here, and then we will eat our fill of scrambled eggs.” Chompa had never eaten anything other than pests, and he’d always wanted some scrambled eggs. He was sure Rafflesia did too.
Rafflesia was really big and smelled like rotten meat. He reeked so bad that there were always flies hanging around him. He never talked, of course, but Chompa didn’t mind. No plants ever talked, they just stood there soaking up sunlight. They’d wither and die if they weren’t watered by the human.
“Here’s my plan”, said Chompa. “The human comes by every morning to water the flowers. So, you keep lookout and I sneak up behind her and bonk her unconscious with a flowerpot. Then we take her hedge-clippers and use them to cut through the glass wall!” Rafflesia tipped over. “Yes, I know I’m a genius.”
The next day their plan went into effect.
“This is it, Rafflesia”, said Chompa. The sun was at the top of the sky, and the human walked through the little door in the back and locked it behind her.
“My pretties!” she cackled as she sprinkled the flowers with water.
Chompa sneaked up behind her and reached a tentacle out for a flowerpot. Feeling nothing, he looked beside him. There wasn’t one. Schist! Where’s the flowerpot?! He thought. Man, I really thought there would be one. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to use my bare hands! He started hitting the human on the head. It was hard work, and it took a while before she noticed.
“Oh, hello, little plant!” said the human.
Chompa grabbed her hedge-clippers and tried to pry them from her belt loop.
“Oh, so you want these? Here you go!” she said, handing him the shears. He grabbed them, looked at her, and ran away.
He grabbed Rafflesia and dragged him along. “C’mon, Rafflesia!” They made their way to the wall of the greenhouse. Chompa took out the clippers and ran one of the sharp edges across the glass, forming a big arch. Then he stepped back a couple of feet and ran at the wall. THUMP!
He hit the wall, expecting the glass piece he cut to fall through, forming a hole for their escape. But he didn’t cut the line deep enough, and the wall was still intact. He also really hurt himself.
But the worst part was that he landed on Rafflesia, flattening him.
“Rafflesia! Speak to me!” Rafflesia, like always, said nothing.
Chompa finally found a flowerpot. It was big, and he broke a hole in the wall with it. He crawled through the hole and took a deep breath of fresh air. He was happy to be free, but he was also sad at the loss of his friend. He buried Rafflesia outside of the greenhouse. He placed a tombstone over him, and on it he wrote, Here lies Rafflesia, who just wanted some dang scrambled eggs.
Something started sprouting up from the grave. Rafflesia must be growing into a new plant! Wait, is that…no. Oh! It is! A scrambled egg-plant!
So, what do you think? Comment and tell me!
