The Flower Massacre - Continued

Later that day after Markus’s mother paid the extra nickel she had demanded, Susie decided to keep some of the mud and petals for evidence. She didn’t know why, but she suspected the red headed monster of something wicked and unclean. As she searched her house for a little plastic bag, she remembered her husband Shirley (yes, it was a woman’s name, but she didn’t care. She was proud of her husband and his girlie name) had used them all to store his snacks for the upcoming rocket launch – that stupid rocket launch that had been causing all this ruckus in her small village.

It was months ago when Arthur “the Immaculate,” as he liked to be called, waltzed into town carrying a trumpet in one arm and a licorice stick in the other, proclaiming that King Ingmar had chosen this humble village as the launching pad for their new invention.

Hippos, albatrosses and flamingos, all rejoiced at the news and danced around in their pajamas until the rooster croaked. They all attended the somber funeral hours later and forgot about the launch. Mary, the grimacing cat who lived in the outskirts of town, gave a heartwarming eulogy during the service because after all, Pete was her lover, her mentor and her pet, all rolled into one. (For the record, Pete was a beloved member of the community with his free wake-up service and the long hours he spent volunteering at the local center for the elderly.)

The mourning was over quickly because, immediately after the proclamation, the town was overrun with carpenters, engineers, mathematicians and hobos of all sizes, shapes and smells. Poor Susie didn’t know which way was up or down, or what side of the river was deeper. Two times she gave her customers the wrong size shoes. It almost made her lose her entire shoe fixing enterprise, but Shirley helped make things better with his cucumber sandwiches and daily back massages.

To be continued….