Whole Again : A Grinch X Lorax adventure

1: a revelation

The Lorax snored.

He wasn't overly proud of the fact, but it's not like he could help it. He'd just spent all his day anonymously trying to convince the extremely dense lumberjack, Chad, not to chop down the sweet, healthy ash tree just because it was old. Very tiring work.

He thought he deserved the break.

One small step for stupidity, one huge leap for nature's kind... or something. He didn't really leave his bunker often.

He calls it a bunker, but it's more like a tiny cavern bellow the oldest oak the size of a CLIPOP Portable Mini Fridge for Bedroom Quiet 4L Camping Fridge that he crammed himself into. It wasn't pleasant. He'd prefer a nice cave, a natureful cave in the peak of the highest mountain, where he would overlook a small town, thinking about all the ways he could help improve and revive Mother Nature herself. She'd given him the blessing of looking after her while she rested, and that's exactly what he had failed at. His only life's purpose: wasted away on modern person's dense brain chemistry. If only he weren't so useless.

Before The Lorax could dwell on his unimportant presence on today's Earth, he felt a sharp pain against the pale cheek of his buttox, followed by a burning sensation.

A true crime against nature. A very rare event.

The Lorax cursed, moving inside the tiny space underground as a deafening roar of  the skies summoned him in front of a forest of burning Pines, not even the raging snow storm could stop the hazardous heat.

He didn't recognize the environment. It wasn't like the dirty waters of Manhattan, or the toxic air around the old cheese factory in London. It's a miracle he even stopped that factory. Manhattan's it's own issue.

He took an exasperated breath. How was he supposed to fix this? He wasn't apart of any fire force. But if Mother Nature felt the need to strike his gyatt, it mustn't be too pressed of an issue.

"Right you ginger fuck," a raspy voice called out from behind The Lorax, immediately striking at one of The Lorax's heart stings. Those are sensitive for a young guardian. "What?" the man asked as The Lorax  turned around. "I'm not going to stop you from jumping in."

The Lorax was shocked to  see that the man was neon green, the hair on the top of his head capturing perfectly how young boys used to do their hair in the school bathrooms with water, his nose upturned, his teeth obnoxiously perfect. 

The Lorax felt confronted.

How could someone so perfectly admirable and charming be such a dick?

"Was this your doing?" The Lorax asked, waving his arm behind him toward the burning pines.

The man just shrugged, picking up his numerous gasoline jugs and turning around to walk off. "What is it to you?" he asked.

"My job," The Lorax replied. "What did the Pines ever do to you?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe cause everyone in that obnoxious little village to be excited? Where are the presents gonna go without any trees," The man said, starting to hike up the mountain.

"A lot of talk coming from a guy the same colour as a healthy head of cabbage," The Lorax muttered, "would you happen to be related?"

"Ooh, a funny guy!" The man laughed. "I really hate funny guys," he frowned, stopping in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder at the Lorax. "Do me a favor and crawl back up whoever's hole you came out of."

"I'm afraid i can not do that, sir," the Lorax informed, folding his arms behind himself and standing on his tip toes, a failed attempt to make himself taller than the green giant. "I have a job to do."

"And what's that?"

"Tell me, what's your name?" the Lorax asked, gathering sticks, cloths and other pieces of litter he found across the snowy ground.

The man thought for a moment, considering the options he has left himself with. "The Grinch."

"Well then, Mr. Grinch," The Lorax smiled. "We have some work to do."