Just Deserts

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Children Stories  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is one of my more recent pieces, it is the tale of a young lass named Sonny Watermellon who desperately wants to impress the neighborhood hottie, Alexander Alexander? And just how does she do it? Read on and find out!

Submitted: February 04, 2014

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Submitted: February 04, 2014



Little Sonny Watermellon was just a young lass unprepared to enter the prime of her life. With an IQ 18 and a face permanently stuck in cross-eyed shock, she was tired of getting gawked at by all the people in town (she thought it was just because of her swag, but she only has 37 swag).

Did I mention that Sonny Watermellon owns a pumpkin patch? Cause that’s kinda important. The time of year was fall, and she devised the perfect plan to impress the kid next door, Alexander Alexander. Yes, he had two first names, but what did that matter? He had swag, and so did Sonny. Let true love live, even if one party doesn’t consent to it or even knows it’s happening. 

Sonny planned to grow a pumpkin sooooo big that she could enter it in the town’s giant pumpkin contest, and give at the very least the shiny ‘Thanks For Participating’ medal to Alexander. He would be so impressed, Sonny thought. But, alas, all of her pumpkins were shriveled up and dying. Yup, instead of a green thumb she has more of a brown one.

Sonny broke out into a nervous cry, oh woe is me! she thought. Until she went on google and found out that pumpkins grow better when you actually water and fertilize them. Now, she was all out of water (she had spent her daily water allocation spraying little kids walking to class with her water gun earlier this morning), but maybe she could get her hands on this fertilizer thing. 

On Walmart’s website, fertilizer was listed at $69.99, oddly enough that someone chose to make a pun out of it on today of all days. After sending a very sternly worded letter, Sonny checked Home Depot and Lowe’s and the price was even more. Sonny was about to just go and commit a daring armed robbery to be able to purchase the fertilizer (which would probably make a better story), when she gazed out her window and saw Alexander Alexander heading to the bathroom to make room (pun intended) for his mid-morning meal, and, in as much of a hurry as he was, forgot to close the blinds so people couldn’t see in. It hit Sonny like a ton of bricks. She went back onto google and found out that animal poop can be used to fertilize plants. Afterwards, she spent most of the day researching on google if humans were indeed animals. And, as it turns out, they are (you probably know where this is going).

Right around dinner time, Sonny Watermellon made a plan out of pure desperation and checked it twice. With the pumpkin patch around back, she walked out, still carrying the look of cross-eyed shock, and found her favorite pumpkin, Bobby-Joe. Sonny then dropped her trousers and, in a very lady like fashion, pushed and pushed  until she took a poop right on top of Bobby-Joe. 

With her daring deed accomplished, she went back in without wiping (there were no leaves around), and fell into a deep slumber. The next morning, her cross-eyed shock belied her excitement when, not only was Bobby-Joe the pumpkin gigantic, but he was also flamboyantly glowing a bright neon green. Just in time for the contest tonight, Sonny thought. And, forgetting to feed herself he daily ration of bread and jam, stared at the glowing pumpkin all day. 

Everyone in town was lined up full of alacrity for the pumpkin contest being held in towne square. Bobby-Joe’s human cousin Joe-Bobby brought in his pumpkin son, Bob-Bob for the competition, and Sonny began to fear that the judges would be more wowed by a talking pumpkin than her glowing one. 

“Wait here!” She instructed Bobby-Joe. 

So that’s when Sonny took matters into her own hands, the only way she knew how. She walked over to Bob-Bob, while Mayor McChicken was evaluating him. She stood up upon the picnic table holding the human-pumpkin hybrid known as Bob-Bob, and clenched her haggard belt. Take this you fuck! Sonny thought as she squatted above and, much to Mayor McChicken’s disdain, began to void her bowels onto the both of them (what else did you expect?). 

This act was partially out of pure desperation, but mostly it was to grab the attention of Alexander Alexander, who entered his wiener dog oddly enough in a contest of pumpkins. And Alexander Alexander was so intrigued, so adoringly mystified by the female with the forever cross-eyed shock on her face dropping a fresh one on whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted. It was just such a display of utter badassery, it inevitably turned him on something fierce. 

“Sonny Watermellon, enough!” Alexander Alexander spoke with a voice even his bowl cut didn’t recognize. The cease order did not come quick enough to spare Bob-Bob or Mayor McChicken’s life though, as they had already started seizuring up on the cold grass, their skin both glowly flamboyantly neon green.  


“Oh, Alexander Alexander, what I do, I do to impress you!” Sonny Watermellon declared.

“You already have!” uttered Alexander Alexander in response,

“Now pull your pants up and let’s runaway and start a life together!”

There was just the tiniest hint of joy and bewilderment on Sonny Watermellons stuck face, and she complied with Alexander Alexander’s request. She hopped down, leaving hell in her wake, and took Alexander Alexander’s hand. And together, they fled the murder scene with Bobby-Joe rolling in tow. Joe-Bobby, just returning from a visit of his own to the taco bell stand, clutching two dozen tacos in each hand, chased after then, but inevitably in vain as he tripped on a twig and the resultant fall cracked his hard, pumpkin exterior. Fatality. And what a waste of good tacos.

The murder case of Bob-Bob, Mayor McChicken, and Joe-Bobby remains on the cold case files to this day, even though there were hundreds of witnesses. But folklore is all that remains of the day a young lass named Sonny Watermellon dropped her trousers and let it out all over a humanoid pumpkin and the mayor of this fine town, and fled the law with the love of her life, Alexander Alexander. God how I love happy endings. 


. . .


"Oh, Alexander Alexander, how I love you so!" Sonny Watermellon decried to the man sitting across the oak from her, Bobby-Joe resting in the middle. but Alexander Alexander did not reply, hunched over in his chair. 

"Alexander?" Sonny called again, rushing over to the chair. She pushed his chin up and he toppled out of the chair. 

"Alexander Alexander, NO!" she bemoaned, cradling his green body. Shocked, Sonny glanced down at her hands, and let ouf a squeal. No! NO! NO! NO! Sonny thought as she saw some residue on her hands. Sonny Watermellon had doomed her new found lover, Alexander Alexander, to an eternity of glowing flamboyantly neon green in a comatose state.


What's the moral to this story you might ask? It's quite simple: always wipe after you use the restroom.

Sonny then reached over and grabbed the butcher knife that Alexander Alexander had kept as a keepsake from his serial killer days. Well, he won't mind now, thought Sonny, Better not let a good pumpkin go to waste. Back in the middle of the table, Bobby-Joe quivered. She lowered the knife, and it grew even brighter.

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