Well, I can certainly say I never expected for my dear little Anny to act so outwardly violent.  The others, feeling the nibble of tiny tumbleweed mouths on their toes, would either freeze in fear or be rendered helplessly restrained by tons of tumbling bodies. I believe I couldn't have been more surprised when she raised a slender arm from amongst the hundreds of spaghetti-like tangles, and I was absolutely baffled by the sight of that silvery blade she clutched.

     I wasn't a man who is easily surprised. Why, I wasn't even dazed when the tumbleweed king, with all his tumbleweed servants, and tumbleweed armies, burst into my home with such tumble gusto and grace, and requested that I, Albiert Intsten,  aid them in their tumbling take over of the world of foot and toes. Three degrees in the study of Lechenaultia divaricata, knowing just how intelligent they are, how could I be? Any other scientist would have proclaimed it impossible, until a large amount of toes in Boston University were announced missing.

   But now, I watched the tiny but ferocious figure of little Anny sinking a crimson stained kitchen knife straight through me, and, I was surprised...

   But not for long, for as can be expected from being stabbed in the heart, my systems began to fail me rather quickly. I fell limply to the tile floor, the lump of cold steal driving deeper into the wound. My vision clouded with the screams of the tumbling empire(tumble weed screams aren't heard) and the horrified face of  my little Anny.

   “I regret nothing!” I laughed as I died, partly at those boring flashbacks of my life, partly at the thorny masses furiously devouring me, and with every bite becoming a mindless ball of weeds, for they are only supposed to eat toes.