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Rebecca Mullins

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This is the very unusual, very unlikely story of how two very different people
came to be very good friends.
Once upon a time, there was a little eggplant. His name was effrey. effrey loved
being an eggplant. He would sit on a windowsill and bask in the sun all day. However,
effrey didn!t notice one critical thing. The sun was drying out his once lu"urious, deep
purple skin. #t became wrinkled and limp, no longer stretched taut around his oblong
body. effrey grew sad. #nstead of basking on the windowsill, he would sit in a corner and
weep. He grew too depressed to move, and gathered dust and cobwebs for many years
undisturbed.
$
%&reg, your tuna is getting cold'( ) short, plump woman called from the kitchen.
&reg!s chocolate*colored hair flopped over his bespectacled eyes as he looked up from
his novel. He s+uinted at the woman.
%#n a minute, ,arlene,( he called back. &reg placed the novel on a nightstand and
slowly rose from his chair. %#!m coming.(
-hen &reg entered the kitchen, ,arlene assaulted him with a barrage of different
food items. Melted butter spilled on his clean, white shirt. &reg tried to defend himself
against ,arlene.
%Help'( He shouted, hoping someone would hear, %This busty woman is attacking
me'( He grabbed a spork and flailed it wildly. Then, everything went black. -hen &reg
came to, he couldn!t move his arms. ) dim lamp provided .ust enough light to illuminate
his surroundings. He was in a small concrete room, with no visible doors or windows.
%Hello/( &reg called using a fake amaican accent, %#s anyone there/( ) tiny slot
opened in one of the walls and a pair of eyes peered into the room.
%0o soup for you'( The person behind the wall shouted. &reg!s eyebrows went up
in confusion.
%-hat are you talking about, sir/( He said, using a 1ritish accent this time. 1ut
the slot had already closed. &reg hung his head in despair. His eyes closed, and he
contemplated his situation.
%...Hey, mister. Over here,( a tiny voice called out from the corner of the room.
&reg whipped his head to face the voice.
%-ho is it/ -ho called me/( He demanded, with a Russian accent. ) pile of dust
rustled and whee2ed.
%3ome here. #n the corner,( the dust called. &reg stood on shaky legs. He was
surprised to find he was wearing a kilt.
%...-hat!s your name/( &reg asked. He took a small step forward, then another,
then another, until he was standing right in front of the dust pile. He bent down and
brushed the dust away, revealing a shriveled up eggplant.
%My name is effrey,( the eggplant coughed. &reg gingerly picked effrey up and
cradled him in his arms.
%-hy, hello there, effrey,( &reg said, %my name is &reg. # think we are going to
be the very best of friends.(
$
4o effrey and &reg chatted in their little concrete cell. 0either had any idea of
how they got there. &reg showed off his many accents, and effrey complained about his
wrinkles. They grew to be very, very good friends. )nd even though they never found out
why they were locked up in a cell, they lived the remainder of their lives in warm
companionship.
TH5 50,.

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