Sharon and the Vege Plot - The Novelization

Chapter 6: Finest Hour

          With my levels of hope dwindling, I stopped pacing around the confines of the supplies closet after a half hour and folded myself down on the tarp, which acted as my only means of regaining any sense of comfort. After focusing on bypassing my hyperventilative episode, I capsized to my lefthand side and laid down, facing away from the door. I was reminded of that one night in bed with Tori. That day, she knocked on my door, but I wouldn't let her in. That night, I knocked on hers, and she turned the light off. And those following weeks, my lights were off, and I was lost in a maze of paranoia and obsession with protecting my silly, silly garden. I kept my door locked from Tori, and I could never let her in. My light remained off for her, for me. Now it seemed, they were off for good. I thought I would be in the dark forever, in the musty nook of my cell, away from my love. As I felt the tears pour down both my cheeks and conduct themselves to my whiskers, I was lulled to sleep by the drone noises of the lab's generator down the corridor.

          Not even my dreams could save me, for the utter blackness of my cell breached the depths of my mind. I was surrounded by this agonizing void I got myself into. I dreamed of being able to see my own heart surrounded by four pitch-black walls of nothingness. The barriers closed in and snuffed any hope I had left of escape. Any hope I had left of seeing Victoria, smothered.

          My dream was a vacuum. There was no sound. I could not scream. I could not cry aloud for Tori or Mum or Dad. So, when I did hear something, I thought I was at the end of it. I heard keys rattling, and I envisioned someone unlocking my shackles to my cell's dark confines. The rattling came closer, and then it stopped. Then I heard more rattling, but it was a different kind of rattling. This time, it sounded more like a key maneuvering within a keyhole. That rattling came to a stop too before being followed by the creek of an oak door's hinges. There was light again. I opened my eyes, and I saw light. Dread loomed back over me. I figured the only one who would open the closet door would have to be that dreaded Redboro. I propped myself straight up on the tarp and turned to my right to see none other than...

          "Victoria!" I exclaimed. Victoria was sure enough standing in the doorway, seemingly overcome with sheer relief at the sight of me still alive and well. I clumsily got up from the tarp to jump into Tori's arms. Our cheeks caressed each others, our embrace compacting us tightly together. I felt Victoria's left cheek disappear from mine for it to be greeted with her soft, tender lips. "How?" I asked her. She explained:

          Victoria was pacing around the front yard of the estate at the late hour of ten o'clock, anxious to see me return. She then regressed to the garden via the northern walkway to see if I had come back after all (perhaps she thought I'd be compulsively tallying my vege once more). As she approached the birch table, she saw someone standing there at the garden's lamppost. Her heart skipped a beat. She squinted her eyes and quickly realized it wasn't me. The figure hadn't a rabbit's rounded ears, but rather stockier, triangular ears. Putting two and two together,  Victoria grabbed a shovel from the back porch's botany chest and started towards the familiar canidae foe. Redboro was manhandling a plump tomato from the garden's first row of bushes when Tori came up to him from behind and whacked him right on the head with the shovel. He cartoonishly winded to the loam and landed right on the tomato he violated. 

          Victoria used this time of Redboro's unconsciousness to frisk his coat for some sort of clue as to where he was keeping me. All she found was a single standard key, engraved on which was an address leading to the abandoned refinery unit where I was being held prisoner.

          "Oh, you are very bold, Tori!" I delighted to my girlfriend. "Nevermind, Sharon. We'd better start back home this minute," advised Victoria. It was here when I remembered the blueprint, the most valuable evidence of Redboro's incrimination. "There's something here we need to bring along! It's horrible, what he's planned! You must see it to believe it," I said. "Sharon, nevermind Redboro. I cannot believe what's gotten into you. Prioritizing all of this vege business has made you go so far as to galavant off and get yourself in danger!" Boomed Victoria. "You are coming home with me at once, and we'll have your garden shipped off in the morning." I tried consulting her, "Victoria..." Though Tori went on, "The important item now is your sanity. I know your garden means so much to you, but the more you meddle with all of the vege, the more likely I am to lose you - and you mean so much to me." 

           I failed trying to break eye contact with Tori; I just couldn't. She had a marvelous pair of eyes to get lost in, which grandly complimented her words that could melt in one's paw. Victoria, at long last, finally got a hold of me. Her embrace was too warm to let go. She knocked on my door one last time, and I let her in. "Oh, Tori, I'm so sorry." "Let's go home, dearie," said Victoria. I couldn't have been happier to hear those words come out of my love's mouth, but I was utterly horrified to see a furry, red fist of fury swing into her darling face from the right and send her crashing to the floor. "Tori!" I shrieked, cringing at the brutality of our persistently unwanted fox guest. 

           "This didn't have to be so difficult, you meddlesome rodents," Redboro snarled at Tori's lifeless body. He twirled around in my direction, towering over me, menacingly advancing at the most methodical of moments. "I always figured I should try rabbit just once," he growled, baring his canines. I landed on my nether region and retreated backwards to the supplies closet, scooting across the ground. When Redboro got closer to me than ever before, I sent my right leg hurdling up into Redboro's groin. With a riveting crunch, Redboro groaned in pain and his once-imposing posture sank. Seeing this, I quickly jumped to my feet and socked Redboro with a one-two punch to the jaw with my right paw, sending him staggering backwards and slamming into his lefthand test tube rack. What followed was a satisfying symphony of glass smashing to the floor. Green mush, vege residue, and glass shards lay everywhere. "No!" Cried Redboro in anger, awkwardly pushing himself up off of the desk he ran into.

           As I witnessed Victoria's body pulse and shakily rise from the floor, I went to her begging, "Let's move." Victoria mutely applauded. However, we were halted by shouts of horror and disbelief from the lab. "My precious samples!" Redboro grieved. "You're too delicious to waste!" As he said this, he ducked his muzzle down into the ocean of the strange vege goo he had created and rapidly lapped it all up with his tongue as if he was a wild dog. In utter bafflement and morbid curiosity, Victoria and I stayed at the dangerous scene to watch Redboro's breakdown. After he finished drinking the solutions from the ruined flasks, he sickly turned over on his right side and started seizing. In my mind, I was debating whether or not I should help him, but I was too fascinated by the terrifying scene before me to merely act out anything. So, we just kneeled there to watch Redboro spasm uncontrollably on the ground of the lab.

          Redboro's rich, red fur started to fade to a crisp orange. His blazer transformed into a pattern of creases. Redboro's head dissolved into a pulp, green stem. He turned into a great pumpkin. The greatest I've ever seen, in fact. Seconds later, the gourd elongated and its hue darkened. A rank odor filled the corridor as the gourd reached a dark green color, and the cacophony of buzzing flies serenaded the lab. The swarm of flies raided the rotting pumpkin as Victoria and I could only watch in a state of bewilderment. The gourd shrank and shrank until a pile of green vege mush was all that was left. The fox had rotted away in less than a minute after drinking up his samples in a desperate attempt to "preserve" them. The flies disbanded and fled the scene, leaving me and Tori to stare at the slop that was Redboro's decomposed remains.