One day in DriftRing Villa, little Lovejoy was bouncing around in the sun-drenched flower fields. His big, brown, floppy ears rose and fell behind his noggin and his nose twitched and wiggled as he bounded about. His giant feet were coiled-up springs, propelling his itty-bitty bunny body high into the sky with every hop-hop-hop. Lovejoy loved to stop near the falls and venture to the abandoned shack where the witches used to live, as it housed a marvelous garden.

  While in the garden, Lovejoy would eat the cabbages, the lettuce the pumpkins, the squashes, and, his favorite, the big, brisk carrots that were twice as long as he was chubby. The carrots were great, they made his brown fur browner, teeth stronger, and his general bunny-ness even bunnier.

  But not today.

  When Lovejoy bit into a carrot, he heard a terrible shriek! His head was on a swivel, alert and looking in all directions, until he heard a, angry, gruff voice emerge from the dirt underneath his feet.
  "A-Aw man, a-aw man," spoke the voice, in both shock and great pain. "W-Why'd ya do that? I-I never e-even touched you…"

  Lovejoy couldn't believe it. A talking carrot! The witches' garden must've been magical.

  "L-Listen, big fella," mumbled the voice, nervously. "I-I don' want no trouble, okay? W-Why dontcha' jus' leave me alone, a'ight? There's plenty of other things to eat an' whatnot!"

  Lovejoy was still dumbfounded. Was this real? Was it a dream? It didn't matter; Lovejoy decided to bring the carrot back to his friends for further examination.

  Before he could grab the magic carrot, however, the door to the shack opened. Out of it walked two raggedy old witches with tattered shirts and ankle socks. They looked like they had rougher skin than brambles and their hair was mop-like, matted against their faces while sticking out in all directions.

  "Isn't it something, Grenda?" said the shorter witch to her cohort. "The garden's still here after all these years."

  "It sure is, Helga," replied the taller witch. "It's just a shame that our Sentient Squash Spell never worked out right. Never brought one thing to life."

  "Oh, let it be," suggested Helga. "We're much stronger now! And we have much to sell to the farmers' market now. Let's take all of it, but not before I reverse the spell-just to make sure no squashes have minds of their own. You never know, it might've worked!" Helga began to move her hands in strange patterns, and began to chant, quietly at first before crescendoing to a loud wail.

  "WAIT!" cried the carrot during the ritual, hoping his voice would be heard.

  But it was too late. Helga finished her spell and the garden shook violently.

  Lovejoy snatched the carrot and hid. The duo of witches gathered their pickings and left.

  Lovejoy nudged the carrot. It didn't speak. Surely the weirdness was over? He sat down and looked over the carrot again. It didn't speak. Lovejoy dragged it back home, just in case it sprang to life again.

  When he returned to his family, they were readying themselves for dinner. As they readied to feast, all of their eyes locked on to Lovejoy's carrot. They motioned towards it. Lovejoy didn't mind. He wasn't in the mood to eat anymore.

  As his family pounced upon the poor carrot, tearing it apart, Lovejoy could've sworn he heard a scream. Or maybe it was nothing. He didn't know.