Dangers of Asparagus
Silly little fur thing I wrote back in high school, 1970s
The Dangers of Asparagus A little while ago in a garden fairly close by lived a mighty oak tree, a lovely red robin and a caterpillar. OK, lotsa others lived there too, but the robin sat around on the oak most of the day, and the tree was so bored it let the robin sit on it and let the cater-pillar crawl up it. I'm not sure how to tell if the oak or caterpillar were guys or gals or one of each, and maybe they don't care. But the robin was a girl, and one day she flew around a little until she crossed the garden and the next one. On the far side she saw a flash of green and circled back. Another garden was fun to explore, so Miss Robin flitted down and spent about an hour buzzing the funny-looking stalks. They were stuck in the ground as plants usually are, solid-looking with tightly-held buds. Miss Robin landed and hopped up to say hello. The asparagus didn't react at all, which wasn't very polite. Miss Robin pushed it gently and it still didn't say anything. Remember she was used to talking with the oak and caterpillar at home. A nearby radish spoke up and told Miss Robin that Larry was a stuck-up silly who wouldn't talk with anyone. Miss Robin thanked it and admired its full round body and red skin with the green hair. The radish blushed and said Larry wouldn't bother to speak even if Miss Robin nibbled a few buds. She was surprised so she decided to check the radish's story. A nibble here and there confirmed that none of the asparagus stalks would talk with the robin. The bird was so intrigued by the silent green veg she forgot to look around, and the radish was too short to alert her to the danger. A red fox jumped on Miss Robin. * After a few days the oak and caterpillar noticed Miss Robin hadn't flown back yet, and since the oak had so much trouble picking up its roots to walk around and look, the caterpillar decided to do all the work. It was upset about the unfairness and shut itself up for a while. Well, the oak bloomed and stuck its leaves out as usual, and after a while the white hut the caterpillar made opened up. But what the heck was this thing? Where was the caterpillar the oak had spoken with all these weeks? Sure, this thing was colorful and had wings like Miss Robin, but it didn't know the poor oak and flew away. Now the poor tree was all alone with nobody to help it. Sure it had company, but the squirrels were naughty and kept chewing on the oak! When it dropped a few acorns just to say hi, they ran up, grabbed the acorns and ran away. The oak was sad. Meanwhile the butterfly who'd been the oak's friendly cater-pillar flew around like it was dizzy until it got flagged by a bluefly. The butterfly promised to be careful and look out for others, and got away with just a warning. It flitted over the garden, through the next one and and was just about to go talk with the tall green veg through the fence when it forgot to look out and blundered into a spider's web. After a while the lady of the web wandered out and chewed on the poor butterfly. It was nice and juicy and tender, and the spider was so intent on the colorful little morsel it never noticed the red fox trotting up until it was too late. If it hadn't been for the vicious asparagus distracting the butterfly, the spider would still be weaving. * It took a while for the sad oak to notice Miss Robin still wasn't back, and that silly colorful thing was still out flitting. There was no nice bird to sit on it, no fuzzy caterpillar to tickle it, and the poor oak was so forlorn it forgot to poke its leaves out. Since a tree needs its leaves to catch sunlight and make food the sad depressed oak got weaker and weaker and fell over, across the small garden and over the next one. The oak was a tree and hadn't realised it was tall enough to just look over the gardens and look for Miss Robin. It would've seen the red fox eat her, and the butterfly and spider. There were a few squirrels poking around its boughs who hadn't twigged the tree was sick and fell over, so they were knocked silly on the ground and since the fence was squashed, the red fox hopped over and ate them too. They were nice and fat from the acorns. Delicious, thank you for asking. I enjoyed the bird and squirrels, the bugs not so much cause they were small, but shiny and attractive. I smiled and chuckled because I'd avoided the suburban homeowners who were mad at me for biting into the other vegs, until they planted asparagus. I left that alone, to attract the robin and squirrels. They ran away, so I planned it so the oak would fall. Heh heh, it brought food right to me! Even when the humans cut the tree up and took it away, the acorns attracted more squirrels. Black, gray, red, I don't discriminate. They're all yummy. And they were all victims of The Vicious Dangerous Asparagus.