The head of cabbage I picked today was huge. I think it might have been rotten, because it smelled weird. Kind of like a combo of dirty socks, vomit, and overcooked broccoli. On second thought, yes, it was rotten. That would be a really weird fresh cabbage. As I was contemplating my cabbage, I saw some hang gliders fly over my cabbage patch and take in whiffs of my cabbage. They, too, smelled vomit, dirty socks, and broccoli. “Whoa,” said Jimmy, one of the hang gliders. “What’s that haunting aroma?” “Well,” said the other hang glider, Bimmy, “it reeks, so either you don’t know the meaning of the word haunting, you’re being sarcastic, or you have a cold.”

“Um, it doesn’t matter,” replied Jimmy, “because of what’s in front of us!” Sure enough, a giant mountain had popped up right in front of them. As they tried to avoid it, Bimmy had devised a plan. “Let’s get back at that guy by stealing all his cabbage.”

The next day, I encountered the hang gliders again, trying to steal my cabbage. In one swift motion, I pulled out my Magnum, and down went Jimmy. Bimmy was beside himself with rage.
He vowed to get his vengeance.

The next day, as I was tending to my 5-foot-tall turnips, I saw something flying towards my cabbage. Oh no, I thought. That must be Bimmy. He was closer. I quickly tried to think up a plan. Then it came to me. I rushed into the house and sprinted out in a blur right as Bimmy was approaching my cabbage. I injected the steroids I had gotten into my turnips, and all he** broke loose. The turnip sprouted arms and legs and ran after Bimmy. 10 seconds later, he was in a choke hold. 1 minute after that, I had my Magnum. 5 seconds later, Bimmy was down, and that is the tale of me and my cabbage versus the two hang gliders.