All week long, the lady has invaded my peaceful home, snatched one of my brethren, and stuffed him into a plastic bag to go God knows where. So here I wait, all by my lonesome, swimming in a huge jar while wondering when I'll have someone to talk to. I figure she'll be back tonight, which shouldn't be too awful. Rumor has it one of our ancestors moped in the back of the fridge for years. I'd rather die.
The light glows and my bath water swirls like a mini-hurricane until her meaty paw grips my tip and plunges me into a plastic bag. At least she didn't pierce me with a fork. The thought of that turns me greener as I find myself growing limp in the zipped tight baggie with no air or juice. Next, I'm wedged between some round, fat,
green thing and a Tupperware container filled with something leafy. The round pest rolls my way and forces me up against the container. My face is smashed, so I push back, but it's pointless. She's much heavier than me and oblivious to my pushing. Maybe I'd do better to slide beside the Tupperware. So I kick the round thing and roll as far away as possible.
What's this? Boy is she dense. The round blob is rolling after me. Doesn't she get it? I don't want to be trapped under her massive body weight. I hate her to the core!
