Wrestling Flies

Phinneas, the current world heavyweight fly wrestling champion, pinned Hector “the Nectar Protector” to the mat and went in for the Pinned Wing submission hold, only recently taken off the banned move list and only then due to a clerical error. Hector buzzed in rage and spun hard, trying to shake his opponent free so he could fly to a better vantage and swoop in for the pin. Phinneas clung tight and spun with him, throwing the Nectar Protector off balance. Things weren't looking good for the underdog and people's champ. That's when Hector had his brilliant idea. Dragging Phinneas on his back, he charged for the edge of the mat. The rules said they couldn't be outside the ring for more than ten seconds without being disqualified, but that was plenty of time. He dove off the edge. With Phinneas pinning his wings, he couldn't fly, but if his opponent kept him in that hold, neither could Phinneas. It was a dangerous game of chicken they were playing as they plummeted to the floor. At the last second, Phinneas broke free, and Hector, who always made in aerial precision what he lacked size zipped in like a bullet toward Phinneas, who blinked first and changed course to avoid a head on impact. Hector used the moment to pull an immelmann turn and come in square on Phinneas. Inches above the table, Hector latched on to his opponent's wings and put him into the dreaded Pinned Wing. They both crashed, but at such a low altitude, Phinneas took the brunt of the crash, and Hector, triumphant, held the pin for the full ten seconds. He had done it. Hector the Nectar Protector was the new world heavyweight fly wrestling champion.

- Originally mailed to J. Germany of Biloxi, MS

Plush Godfather

Gertrude ruled Bed Town with an iron fist, from Pillow Heights, down East and West Side to South Central. Only Cold Foot Flats where even blankets wouldn't go lay outside her dominion. She ran snuggle rackets, engaged in blanket smuggling, temperature fixing, beating pillows who refused to fluff up. She would trade favors for preferential placement on the night light side. If it was underhanded and comfy, she had a hand in it. All the plushies of Bed Town trembled before her and did as she said.

One day, a newcomer, Fluffy Bunbun rolled onto the bed with an eye toward taking the number one snuggle spot. When Gertrude saw him sitting there on the down pillow by the end table lamp, her pillow, she knew she could show no mercy, or else risk losing her once unquestioned control over the bed. In the night, when Suzy, the mayor of Bed Town, was fast asleep, Gertrude sent her boys Teddy and Mrs. Diggles to handle Fluffy Bunbun personally.

Fluffy Bunbun protested as he was torn from Suzy's sleeping arms, but they would not hear his pleas for mercy.

“Tonight, he sleeps under the bed, behind the clothes Suzy hid from her mother,” Gertrude said, her voice as icy as the bottom side of the pillow.

“No!” cried Fluffy Bunbun. “I'll never be seen again!”

“Not until cleaning day, three whole days from now,” chuckled Gertrude. “By then, she will have forgotten how excited she was to get you, and you'll be just another toy. I control cuddle distribution in Bed Town.”

Fluffy Bunbun wanted to protest, but it was too late. He had already fallen to the floor, all but forgotten. Three days? May as well be three years when it came to six year olds.

- Originally mailed to M. Taylor in Seoul, South Korea

Starfall

“The night of Starfall is upon us again even as it has been foretold!” cried Many Points from his pulpit at the top of the hill. “Even as our parents told us, as they heard from their parents, and theirs on unto our ancestors before the men of sticks and stone lost their hair and created their own mountains, the new judgment is upon us!”

The other animals looked on in awe as Many Points spoke, the burning sky behind him silhouetting him against the fierce glow, his antlers a burning bush atop his head.

“What can we do?” cried Farleap Long Ears as she clutched her children close, trembling like the earth beneath their feet.

“We must do even as our ancestors did when the stars crashed to the earth to punish the great lizards,” he replied. “We must seek out the dark places. We must hide in the caves and in the deep burrows until the sky is dark again, and then we must stay warm for it is our warm blood and fur that saved us from the first judgment, for it will be a world cold and without mercy. We must change and adapt as we did in the past. Eat not of the sickly, neither plant nor neighbor, for so shall it be your undoing, even as we have been taught since time immemorial.”

“But how can we survive this?” cried Nutfur Tinysqueak. “Some of us are so small, and have such little strength.”

“Know this,” said Many Points. “Each and every one of you, no matter how great or how small, is descended from those who survived the first night of Starfall all those years ago. I ask you, how can you not survive?

The animals agreed that this was wisdom, and so they bid their farewells until they should meet again, after the stars ceased their assault, after the earth no longer shook and the fires in the sky went out and the Long Winter had begun.

- Originally mailed to M. Haley of Lake Orion, Michigan

The Actor

The life of a animal actor is not as glamorous as that of a human actor. They do not receive lavish salaries or fancy homes or media attention. Their own species is often utterly indifferent to their chosen profession. For this reason, animal actors are often far more dedicated to their roles than any human could imagine. If an animal becomes an actor, he does it entirely for the love of the craft. So it was with Colin, who in his youth played Babe in one of many direct to video sequels and got to be Young Wilbur in a production of Charlotte's Web. As he got older, he played Napoleon in a remake of Animal Farm, Habeas Corpus in a Doc Savage webseries. He played a pequinino in one of the Ender's Game sequels. He came full circle and portrayed Grown Wilbur in Charlotte's Web again, and critics agreed he was “some pig.” As he got older, he had fewer roles to choose from. After all, there weren't many stories about old pigs, as most were eaten before then. Still, he did get to play Old Major in a made-for-TV version of Animal Farm. But that was the last role left for him. Or so he thought, for one day, someone approached him to play the title role in a film called The Lord of the Flies. He was excited to play a title role again. Even when he read the script and saw what the part entailed, he still took the job, for as he always said, “I'm an actor until the day I die.”

- Originally mailed to J. Schwartz in Keller, Texas

The Judas Cow

“Tomorrow when they open the gates, do not follow me,” the cow they called Judas said to me.

“Why not?” I asked, for I was new to the pasture.

“They take you do your death!” he cried.

“That is absurd. Everyone knows they take you to Sunshine Valley where the grass is always tall and green. You don't get to go because you have no faith.”

“It is true! None who go ever return!”

“Here we have this field where there is hay and a roof over our heads and room to stretch and graze. I am milked daily so that my udders do not swell. If they wanted to kill us, why would they take such care of us?”

“They intend to eat you!” Judas said. “They carve the flesh from your bones and devour your body.”

“Nonesense. They have no claws, no sharp teeth. They lack the speed of wolves. Ha! As though these few creatures could overpower us or consume so many.”

“I know what I know,” said Judas and walked away.

The following day, we followed him up a ramp, but he was diverted at the last minute to another pen, his punishment for having no faith in Sunshine Valley. As I walked up the ramp, however, I couldn't shake what he had said. I decided, though too late for the decision to actually mean anything, that even if we were being led to the slaughter, the caretakers have been nothing but kind to me. I will not do them the unkindness of breaking our trust now.

- Originally mailed to J. Cox of New Oreleans, Louisiana