Check out all the completed Food Fight entries on Marcie Colleen’s blog, The Write Routine.
Out on the plains, stranded in a sea of buffalo grass, lived a farmer and her husband. Running behind their house, was a skinny sliver of a river. The couple used its water to wet their throats and grow fruit and vegetables.
And grow they did! Strawberries and raspberries, brussel sprouts and broccoli, nectarines and tangerines, lettuces and radishes, cabbages, carrots, and more.
One night the wind rolled over the plains, and whistled through the keyhole. It rattled the windowpanes and tossed the couple in their bed, and robbed them of their sleep. The wind tossed the vegetables in their beds too, robbing their scent and sweeping it out over the plains.
The sun was high in the sky before it roused them. They had not heard the munching and crunching in the garden. The couple caught a glimpse of white tails squeezing out between the fence posts, and the sight in the garden knocked their sleeping caps clear off.
“Best to keep guard tonight, dear,” the farmer said to the husband. “We should work in shifts.”
The husband took the first shift. He sat smack in the middle of the tomato patch and waited. The first fuzzy fellow to peek his nose through the fence slats got what he was looking for – but not in his mouth!
“Whoop! I got him,” cheered the husband.
But underneath all that tomato splatter the animal chewed.
CRUNCH MUNCH CRUNCH
Then SPIT! SPAT! Vegetable purée flew from the fuzzy fellow’s mouth and pegged…
the farmer’s husband SPLAT in the kisser.
He doubled over and crawled into the strawberry patch grabbing a fistful of strawberries SQUISH.
The juice dribbled down his shirt and jeans. He took aim at his target. SMASH! The farmer’s husband leaped with joy. “Got that dang varmint!”
SLURP, the critter licked his fur, swallowed and purred, which sent the husband into a dance of rage. The farmer rushed out of the farmhouse to find out what all the kerfuffle was about. Seeing her husband’s shirt soaked in red, she freaked and started lobbing cabbages like a pro footballer. KERPOW!
But the bunny was the head of the Fluffy Dodge Ball Team. He caught the cabbage and took a bite, staring down the farmer with menacing eyes. The farmer’s goat had wandered over now. He was the only one allowed to throw things at the farmer! He hoisted a pumpkin in his horns and chucked it at the bunnies. Poof! Orange fur balls flew in the air.
With a huge PLOP, those orange bunnies did drop, like harvest moons, into a pig’s trough of slop. They sputtered and bobbed, in the green, gooey glob, struggling to get back in the game.
But the pigs were fascinated as they nosed the rabbits down to watch them pop back up in the drink. “Corn cobs are what this stew needs,” said a pudgy pink porker as he scooped up cobs with his snout and SPLASHED them upon the bobbing bunnies.
But back into the game they got. Hiding behind a large pumpkin, the bunnies discussed their tactics. A full-court press was needed. On the count of three with carrots, tomatoes and peppers in hand, the bunnies jumped up and threw. A barrage of vegetables landed Kir-Plat, Splach, Swap on the farmer, her husband and the goat.
They fell backward into a recently upturned patch of earth where the onions grew. Hoping that cut onions would make those bunny eyes water, the Farmer and her husband spilt a few, CRUNCH, and swung them under the pumpkin leaves.
TUMBLE-TUMBLE, but the onions fell short, rolling under the pumpkin leaves. The EFFECT was different though! It worked like a gas bomb! The bunnies couldn’t see through their tears, so when the 3 small bunnies threw their food, it hit the BIGGEST bunny! THUNK! HUNK! TUNK! The Farmer and her husband cheered, sending more onions to get the job under control…
The bunnies retreated, temporarily stymied, but not defeated. UGH, groaned one. WAHH, cried the other. SHUSH, said the third. “It’s time to be smart,” he said. “Why don’t we lay a trap? We’re great diggers, so let’s dig a giant hole to lure them in, and then we’ll bombard them with their produce.”
“We know what to do,” one of the bunnies shouted. “Follow me.” He ran into the barn, jumped on the tractor and turned the key.
RRRRRUMMM, RRRRUUUUUMMMM, the engine roared as another bunny pressed the gas pedal.
A third bunny shifted the gears while the first bunny grabbed the steering wheel.
The farmer said, “Oh my.” The farmer’s wife said, “Golly.”
The bunnies drove the tractor out of the barn and drove it in circles digging a bigger and bigger hole.
But as too many cooks can spoil the broth, so can too many bunnies driving a tractor spoil the fight! The tractor tipped, spilling out the critters in a pile of giggles. And giggling is contagious. All the animals joined in, including the farmer and her husband. Bwahaha! Chortle! Hee, hee! Guffaw! Hackigigigi! Hyuk, ho, hoo! Snigger! Snort! Teehee! They just couldn’t stay mad while laughing so hard! The couple looked into each other’s eyes and they knew. It sure would be nice to laugh more often, so they decided to plant for themselves – and for their friends, and were no longer … stranded in a sea of buffalo grass!
The alternating bold and regular fonts distinguish between the ‘throws’. The only changes made to the added comments were to keep the farmer’s ‘pants’ on the right spouse, because SHE is the farmer in this story!
Special thanks to all that read the story and threw hard: Susanna, Catherine, Jen, Penny, Donna, Heather, Patricia T., Joanna, Lauri, Patricia N., Gretchen, Sarah, Erik, Sylvia, Robb and Marcie – for bringing us all together in this fun-filled community building kerfuffle!