Mewky remembered his father’s words, when Greeleaf Slimemaster Slug left to find food: “They call us slow and ugly, Son. But they don't know what a slug can do.”
“Celebrate your slime!” his father called over his shoulder.
Mewky had to find Greeleaf before sunrise. A slug caught in the sun is done.
With the dawn came new dangers.
When he reached the middle of the driveway, Mewky felt a breeze flutter on his body. He stiffened and slimed.
“Wob, wob, wob, what do we hab here?” the robin said. “Wooks wike bweakfast to me.”
Mewky felt the heat from the bird’s massive red breast.
“Patooey. Ugh! You taste bery bery bad. And you hard as a stick. I no like you,” the bird said, as it took to the air. “Why you blue?” it called.
“I’m blue because I miss my Dad,” Mewky sighed, although the bird flew off in the distance.
With the flower bed just ahead, Mewky felt his belly scrape. He thought he heard thunder.
He twisted his antennas and saw a giant orange killer slug chugging behind him.
I’d better do something quick! he thought. He turned this way, that way, and this way. The killer slug skidded off the trail.
Mewky tucked his tentacles and crawled as fast as he could to the flower bed. He dozed and rested his raw belly on a bed of moss.
Mewky woke up, rolling on the ground. When he came to rest on his side, a small green frog hopped up to him.
The frog shot out its tongue, which wrapped around Mewky’s body. Mewky leaked all his slime.
“You, Monsieur, are ze most slipperyyyyyy bug I have met,” the frog said, its eyes gleaming. “I can snag ze flies in mid-air. I can lap up a hundred antzzz at a time. I can even lasso ze praying mantizzz But with you, I cannot come to grips. So, adieu, Bleu.” The frog two-hopped into an ivy bed.
“I must find my father, now!” Mewky said.
On a gray boulder, Mewky spied a shimmering silver thread of slime. He put his tentacles close, sniffed and whooped for joy. His dear father was near.
Sure enough, around the rock stood Greenleaf Slimemaster Slug.
“Those were the days,” Greenleaf told a bunch of slugs and snails, “when I could stretch my body twenty times its length to squeeze through a crack in a fence to get a tomato plant.”
Mewky pushed through the shrubbery.
“My son!” Greenleaf cried. “My beautiful true blue Mewky. I’m so happy to see you.”
“Where have you been?” Mewky said, through his tears. “We thought something horrible happened to you.”
“I’m afraid I’ve sprained my foot, torn my skirt, and I’m dry as a bone,” cried Greenleaf.
“Mom, Grandma, and Baby Juicy are waiting at home for you. We have to leave, as soon as the sun goes down.”
“Relax, Mewky. Enjoy the shade. Stretch out your body. Celebrate your slime.”
Mewky felt his body buzz. “Dad, we have to get ready to go,” he said. “Nightfall will be here soon.”
“My son, I cannot travel. I am sorry.”
“Wait! We’re coming.”
Two giant slugs slid up.
“Allow us,” the biggest one said to Mewky. “Your father kindly helped remove my baby daughter from the spikes of a centipede.”
The slug bent forward. “Jump on my back, sir,” he said to Greenleaf. “You are riding home, sluggo style.”
“My, my, Ooze, thank you,” Mewky’s father said. “One kind act in return for another. That’s the way the world works best.”
“Let’s go, Goo,” Ooze called.
“I’m coming,” the other slug said.
“Me, too, Cuzzies,” exclaimed an enormous pistachio snail. “The more, the scarier.”
Greeleaf laughed, “Our kind can hardly be scary. But there might be strength in numbers.”
Mewky moved next to Ooze, on the edge of the driveway. He pointed his tentacle at his incoming slime trail.
“There’s our way home,” he said. “The clouds are in. The night is cool and dark. We should pass undisturbed. Home we go!”
“Home we go! Home we go! Hooray!” Greenleaf cheered. “We might be odd, but it’s a good life being a slug.”
“Home we go! Home we go!” they all chanted as they glided along the path.
“Home we go! Home we go!” “Home we go! Home we go!”
Mewky waved his tentacles and shouted, “Celebrate your slime!”
