This lovely and passionate piece is based on a true story in a day in the life of me, Erin, and my best friend Taylor. Please enjoy our randomness.     Erin and Taylor Prepare for the Ultimate Amount of Stupidity                 Taylor: I like to watch SpongeBob. And dance in front of the mirror while making funny voices. And sing songs of only the verses I can remember.               Erin: Ditto.               Taylor: I like to walk. I like to walk for a long time. What else do I like to do…..??               Erin: Ditto.               Taylor: I like to write stories and put myself in them even though I am not a character, I am an author.                         Erin: Ditto.               Taylor: I have fun skipping and dancing randomly in any place whatsoever, whether it be in a house, in a tree, in a hole, in the sea.               Erin: I like pink hippopotamuses (*I SPELLED IT RIGHT!!!) that dance in the middle of a vast sea like monkeys and go LOOODDDLL. LOOODDDDLLLL!!!!!!               Taylor: I know as a fact that someday, it will rain armadillos, and we will all be attacked—and eaten—by man-eating artichokes.               Erin: Don’t forget the aliens!! Okay, in a vision, magical flying monkeys told me about how aliens were going to come from the sky and eat all of our fruit pies. That is, unless we get the giant magical flying pumpkin (there’s only one in the history of the universe) that can tame unicorns and save the world from the aliens.               Taylor: Stay tuned for our story about the cucumber that wished it was a pickle.               BLOOPERS:          Erin: HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT!!!!!               Taylor: SAY WHAT!!!!!               Erin: THAT WE’LL BE EATEN BY MAN-EATING SNOW PEAS!!!!! IT’S ARTICHOKES! WHY DID I HIRE YOU!! WHAT DO I PAY YOU FOR!!!               Taylor: YOU DON’T PAY ME, CHILD!               Erin: *Gasp! I AM NO CHILD!!!               Taylor: You’re a thirteen year old child! You childish, immature, child, child—child…er….THING!!               Erin: Ooooo, butterfly!!               Taylor: WHAT BUTTERFLY??? Ooooo—it’s pretty!               Erin: Yeah…..                         Taylor: Ladies and Gentlefrogs, boys and unicorns, we are now going to begin the tragic story of the Cucumber Who Wished to be a Pickle. Let us begin.                 His name was Bob. Bob lived in a garden. He led a very lovely life, until that fateful day when it RAINED. *Scary music.             And in the afternoon, when the rain ceased to fall, he went out to take a breath of fresh and crisp, post-rain air. If pickles can breathe like that, that is.             Then Sally the Pumpkin waddled up to him and said, “You ain’ no pickle.”             Bob was mortally wounded. “What makes you say that?” he cried in a teary voice.             Sally proceeded to answer. “You ain’ no pickle, fu!”             Bob stared at her (even though he sufficiently lacked eyes). How could he not be a pickle?             “Bu-but of course I’m a pickle! Do I not look like a pickle, Sally the Pumpkin?”             “You jus’ ain’ no pickle!”             Bob decided to go back into the sanctuary of the greenhouse and replant himself, because he was getting the most suspicious feeling that that was the only answer he would be getting out of Sally.             As Bob hopped up the stairs into the greenhouse, he thought about what made a pickle a pickle. “I should visit the Magical Wizard of Blueberries!” he said aloud.             And so he proceeded to move out in a perilous journey to the other side of the 12ft X 12ft greenhouse.             Even though Bob did not have eyes, he saw the Blueberry Wizard sitting atop his mighty carton. He looked like a blueberry. A mighty blueberry, in all his splendor. For that is what he was.             “What do you wish, Bob the Cucumber?”             Bob then protests. “I. Am. A. PICKLE!!!” Although he had no mouth to speak, he managed to utter these words.             But the Wizard then said, “But of course you are a cucumber, Bob! You have never been pickled!”             And Bob said, “Pickled? Tell me, what is this ‘pickling?’ and how can it happen to me?”             “Well, Cucumber Bob, first you must cross the greenhouse to the great entrance Shiggalabig. And then, you must make yourself noticeable to the Gardener, ruler of us ALL!!”             Bob then left, and he could’ve sworn he heard the great Wizard mutter “Sucker.” Bob dismissed this, because the great Wizard was so kind to him. Helping him become a pickle at last! What he always thought he already was! Wow! What a magnificent Blueberry.             And so, with a little direction from a family of cantaloupes, Bob set out and made it quickly into the Gardener’s house. The Gardener picked him up, and Bob could have shouted from his joy (despite his lack of a mouth. Or vocal chords.) The Gardener put him in a jar of pickling juice. Bob loved watching the Gardener’s children. Jonathan and Leanne. And when he was finally pickled, he couldn’t wait to see the look on Sally the Pumpkin’s face when she saw that yes—he was pickled!             But then, when Bob was at last pickled, little girl Leanne, with her blonde pigtails and big blue eyes, opened the jar and pulled Bob out. He found it unusual that the Gardener was having his five year old daughter put him back outside, but he didn’t pay it much mind.             And then, little Leanne opened her mouth. Bob screamed as loud as a pickle (not a cucumber) could scream. Which is apparently significantly quieter than a cucumber. For the girl paid no heed to his cry.             Then, CRUNCH. SMACK. CHEW. AND YUM.             And that was Bob’s fate. Eaten by a five year old.                         Taylor: *Sniff, sniff. *Cry. And the moral of this story, children, is to be happy with the way you are, the way you are. Or, you will find yourself trapped in a pickle jar, or eaten by a five year old. So be happy with the way you are. *Sniff.               Erin: *Cries. And unhappiness. The emotion was riveting, don’t you agree, Taylor?               Taylor: Yes, I agree. It was an emotional rollercoaster. And a fantastic moral! I think this could be a movie.                         Erin: *Solemnly nods. So true, so true. To pull at the heartstrings of America.               Taylor: I dream of genies with light brown hair…*Sing, sing, happy, happy, joy, joy.                         Erin: Well, this closing statement was sponsored by: The Erin and Taylor—               Taylor: Noooooo, TAYLOR and Erin—                         Erin: Um, excuse me, this was like, so, my idea!               Taylor: It was my idea to make a story about a cucumber named Bob who wanted to be a pickle! Miss ERIN!!!               Erin: Well fine then, be that way. But I made up the name.               Taylor: NO you didn’t!               Erin: I SOOO did!               Taylor: Oh no you didn’t!               Erin: Uh, ya, I did!     THANK YOU, AND GO AWAY.