The Clean Fifteen battle against the Dirty Dozen. Who will conquer the kitchen counter?
|A blob of ranch dressing flew across the counter, splattering across the Clean Fifteen’s front line of attack. The explosion sent several of the lieutenants in the Onion Brigade rolling into the sink.
“Captain Cauliflower’s been hit!” Sergeant Sweet Pea yelled across the melee of battle. He grabbed his captain by the scruff of his neck and pulled him out of the frying pan, where the heat of the fight was taking place. Sauce dribbled off the captain’s brow, leaving a trail across the smooth counter top. He rolled the captain the last few feet to their Bread Box Base.
Doctor Asparagus blanched. “I’ve seen many battle injuries but none so barbaric as this!” He shook his green head and frowned. “It looks like this deadly concoction was made with chives, parsley, and dill—“
“The herbs are in neutral territory!” Sweet Pea scowled, feeling his blood boil. “Only the Dirty Dozen would stoop so low as to cannibalize our own kind like this!”
“War is never pretty,” the doctor said with a sigh. With a practiced hand he prepped a clay poultice for the captain’s head injury. “If only it had never come to this! If only the others had agreed to refrain from drugs and grow in healthy soil…” he trailed off with a shrug. “But it is what it is.”
Sweet Pea nodded. “We’ll cure’em in the long run,” he vowed. He licked his lips and glanced at the door. “It looks like you have this well in hand, sir. If you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my unit could use my help.”
“Of course, of course.” The doctor waved him away, his attention still on the captain’s wounds. Sweet Pea gave a smart salute before spinning on his heel and marching from the safe haven. Slipping into place next to Sergeant Cabbage and Sergeant Kiwi, he could feel Lieutenant Eggplant’s eyes on him and he flushed, not looking forward to the dicing he’d get for abandoning his post. Even if it was to save their captain.
“This is quite the pickle,” Lieutenant Eggplant growled. “We’re losing the front line. Orders from Colonel Corn are to make a strong strike to gain it back. You and you,” He pointed at Sweet Pea and Cabbage. “Prepare to launch a canon. I want the Dirty Dozen pushed to the edge of the counter ASAP!”
Sweet Pea saluted. He caught a glimpse of his fellow combatants wielding forks and knives as they attempted to keep strawberries and cherries from rolling past the skirmish line. Sergeant Cabbage nudged him and grunted, “Help me load this cup!” Sweet Pea hefted the drinking vessel into the waiting slingshot. It took the two of them to pull the rubber back.
“Fire in the hole!”
Sweet Pea watched as the glass shattered, spraying shrapnel into the soft flesh of a troop of tomatoes. The tomatoes screamed as seeds oozed from their wounds. A line of bell peppers tripped over the tomatoes, taking the place of their fallen comrades. Sweet Pea glanced at Cabbage, noting the glazed look in his eye.
“Don’t give up yet, Sergeant!” Sweet Pea had no time to mince words. “Let’s load the next shot!”
They heaved back on the slingshot again, sending filet knives flying toward their foes. The sharp points hit their marks, slicking the peppers into ribbons. Sweet Pea cheered as the enemy called the retreat.
“Looks like their rears are poached, Lieutenant,” Cabbage said with a grin. “We creamed’em!”
“Don’t celebrate yet, boys,” Lieutenant Eggplant warned. “We haven’t whipped them yet. In fact, our battle has just begun…”