THE BALLAD OF THE NINJA SNAILS
It was a group of Ninja Snails,
All schooled in an ancient art,
That set out one day on an epic trip,
Prepared to play their part.
Their precious cargo—a silly book—
They had to deliver on time
To Mr. Big Nose, the publisher,
Before five o’clock did’st chime.
O’er hill and dale the snails did slide
Though they grew pale and wan;
They were weak and tired and in need of rest,
But still the snails slid on.
Would they make it? Could they take it?
The conclusion was not foregone.
The odds were against them.
(Fate seemed to hate them!)
But still the snails slid on.
As the years did pass, the landscape changed
That the snails were sliming upon:
Seeds became trees and forests grew,
But still the snails slid on.
The ice did melt and the seas did rise;
The low-lying land was all gone.
The climate warmed—a new world formed,
But still the snails slid on.
They were desperate to arrive at the office by five,
But time marched never on.
They wished to end their epic quest,
But still the snails slid on … and on … and on … and on … and on … and on … and on … and on …
Till, finally, they saw a sign—
A nose so big and red—
Their journey’s end was reached at last,
And up the walls they “sped.”
They reached the open office window
And slowly slid inside.
They slimed onto the office desk
And across it they did glide.
So let’s hear it for those snails so brave,
Let’s give them three big cheers,
For they made their way and saved the day
(Though it took 100 years*).
… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzz … um … hang on … what are these zees doing all over the page?
Oh … I must have fallen asleep.
I wonder what the time is?
I look at the clock.
Hang on! That can’t be right! It’s fast—100 years and 15 minutes fast!
Ah!
Now I remember.
The carrot!
The Ninja Snails!
The book!
Terry’s crazy plan!
“Terry!” I say. “Jill! Wake up!”
Terry sits up and rubs his eyes.
Jill yawns and stretches. “I feel like I’ve been asleep for 100 years and 15 minutes,” she says.
“That’s because you have!” I say. “We all have.”
“I wonder if the snails made it?” says Terry.
At that moment the doorbell rings.
We go down and open the door.
It’s Bill the postman!
“Gee, you guys have really let this place go,” says Bill. “I had to clear a path to get in here! I’m a postman, not a gardener, you know.”
“Sorry, Bill,” I say. “We slept in.”
“For 100 years and 15 minutes,” says Terry.
“You boys need an alarm clock,” says Bill, chuckling.
“I hate alarms,” says Terry. “They scare me.”
“How do you feel about telegrams?” says Bill.
“I love them!” says Terry.
“Well, that’s great,” says Bill, “because I’ve got one for you right here.”
“Yay!” says Terry, taking the telegram from Bill. “It’s from the snails!”
“What does it say?” says Jill.
“They made it!”
“That’s wonderful news,” says Jill.
“Yeah,” says Terry. “I knew they could do it.”
“Me too,” I say. “I’m going to miss those little guys.”
“Not for long,” says Terry. “They’re on their way home!”
“Always glad to be the bearer of good news,” says Bill, “but I’d better be on my way.” He rides his scooter back down the path he’s cleared to our front door and disappears into the overgrown forest.
“I had the most amazing dream while we were asleep,” says Terry. “I dreamed we added another 13 stories to the treehouse, including one where it’s always your birthday.”
“Me too!” I say, “I had the exact same dream!”
“So did I,” says Jill, “and one of the new stories was a pet-grooming salon—and I was in charge!”
“It’s kind of weird that we all had the same dream,” says Terry. “Do you think it means something?”
“Definitely,” I say. “It means we should add another 13 stories to the treehouse and we should get started right away.”
“Don’t forget the pet-grooming salon,” says Jill.
“Or the birthday room,” says Terry.
“One 65-story treehouse with a pet-grooming salon and a birthday room coming right up!” I say.
THE END