If Grass Could Talk, It Might Sound Like This

TOM: Psst. Phil. Psst. Hey Phil.

PHIL: What is it Tom?

TOM: Made ya look.

PHIL: Goddamnit!

SUE: What’s wrong, Phil?

PHIL: Tom keeps talking at me. Geez, of all the places I could’ve sprouted it had to be here.

TOM: It was funny though.

PHIL: It was not funny.

SUE: You two are so cute together.

PHIL: Don’t encourage him.

TOM: Do you think any of us will grow into flowers?

PHIL: Somebody step on me…

SUE: Hey, not cool! I’m right here.

PHIL: It’s not gonna happen.

SUE: You don’t know that.

PHIL: If I want it, it won’t happen.

SUE: Remember Penny?

They offer a solemn silence directed at the nearby footprint.

SUE: She was stepped on.

They all remember Penny.

PHIL: The world was too cruel for Penny.

SUE: Why are we even here?

TOM: I wanna sprout tomatoes.

PHIL: That’s great, Tom. Let me know how that goes.

TOM: I almost did it once. Remember? I found that red stuff on me?

PHIL: And what did it end up being?

TOM: Fuzz. But I think maybe all plants start as grass like us who find some fuzz.

SUE: That’s really poetic, Tom.

TOM: And when that dog peed on us I was scared I’d grow a whole dog. I’d break if that ever happened.

SUE: Shh, guys I hear something.

They hear a DISTANT LAWN MOWER.

SUE: The Executioner!

PHIL: Don’t shout! It’ll hear us.

TOM: That seems superstitious, Phil.

SUE: It’s coming closer.

The lawnmower gets LOUDER.

PHIL: Everyone calm down!

SUE: YOU calm down!

PHIL: I AM calm.

SUE: You don’t look calm. You look like a trembling, little blade of grass.

PHIL: Alright! I am trembling. I didn’t sign up for this. I want limbs and a mouth and more limbs!

TOM: I wanna be a flower!

PHIL: I wanna be a flower! People like flowers. They don’t run them through the executioner for sport.

The mower is EVEN CLOSER.

The grass all moves in the breeze.

SUE: Whoaa!

PHIL: Just hold on!

TOM: I can’t breathe!

A SHADOW falls over them.

All goes black.


The grass patch is now mowed.

PHIL (mutters): I can’t feel my face…(realizes) SUE. I CAN’T FEEL MY FACE.

SUE: You don’t have a face.

PHIL: Oh. Right. (then) Have you lost weight?

SUE (flattered): Two inches off the top.

TOM: Am I a rose yet?

PHIL: Almost Tom.

TOM: Hey, Phil.

PHIL: What?

TOM: Made ya look.

Tom and Sue CHUCKLE. Phil just groans.

THE END.