My friend gave me this idea. He was just kidding but I actually liked it.
In the lovely forest of Dreamland, a cute, tiny little home with a yellow roof is there to give a home to someone. This small house isn't the only one in the forest. There are many. These homes are only available to a certain species.
In the bright, misty morning when all creatures are still rubbing their eyes to awaken, a Broom hatter comes out of one of these houses. With it's black witch hat on and it's broom, this yellow blob would look very innocent at first sight. Even it's goal is innocent- to sweep everything. You would think a species with such a goal that has to do with sweeping it's front porch with a broom every morning would be harmless.
Not just it's porch, no. It sweeps the whole town! When the sun sets, after a hard work of sweeping, it gracefully comes back to where it had awaken from, it's yellow roofed house waiting all day for it's return.
On it's way back, Broom hatter sees his good friend Whispy Woods.
"Hello, Whispy. You must get bored sitting there all day every day."
"G'day, Mr. Hatter. Oh, no, us trees were born to enjoy having our roots attached to the ground. Why, if I could walk, I would have no idea where to go."
"Oh, I couldn't imagine not having feet. I wouldn't get to clean the forest or the grass fields with my broom."
"A broom, is it? I didn't know that was called a broom. You learn something everyday, even when you cannot move!" Whispy said laughing.
"You didn't know what a broom was? Ey, you're 7 million years old. You need to get out more!" Hatter began laughing over his own lame pun.
"Well, I really don't see your species around too often. That is a peculiar object.. so simple yet so effective. How do you make it?
"It's quite easy really. In fact, you can even find the items out in nature. That's what us Broom hatters do by instinct.
"Care to demonstrate?" asked Whispy in awe.
"Sure. You need three simple things." he explained. Hatter dropped his broom to quickly look for the materials. He picked out some tough grass in a patch somewhere near Whispy. Afterwards, he ran to some straw fields to collect several amounts. Minutes later, Hatter returned with two out of the three materials.
"And finally, you will need something for the stick you hold to sweep." Hatter took off his witch hat, revealing a pocket knife. He grabbed a hold of the knife, walked over to a nearby tree and began cutting it. This left Whispy horrified.
"What in the world are you doing?!" he shouted.
"Huh?" Hatter turned around, "I'm getting wood for the stick handle."
"You mean brooms are made of wood?!"
"The traditional ones, yep."
Suddenly, Whispy did not look serene. His entire bark grew red.
"So that's what happened to my children and other fellow trees. That's why they are dying. You Broom hatters are cutting them to pieces slowly, and it's ruining them!
"Whoa, calm down, Whispy! It's not like I'm an animal that engulfs nature with fire!" Hatter quickly put his pocket knife back on his head and his witch hat on to cover it. He picked up his broom as well.
"Calm down? You're endangering my species. You're not a friend, you're a monster! I order you and your clean freak comrades to leave this forest!" Some of the apples grown on the top of Whispy began turning a poisonous purple.
"Clean freaks?! Oh no you didn't!" angry, Hatter raised his broom up for combat, "we'll see who's the one to leave this forest!"
"But I have no feet, remember?"
"Then I will have to just rid you out of this forest the other way.."
Whispy gasped, and turned to flames in anger.
"Oh, no you didn't!!" Whispy began shaking the apples of of his head. Hatter easily dusted every apple out of the way.
"Is that all you got?" Hatter smirked.
"No." Whispy huffed and then began doing something Hatter did not know trees could do. Whispy dove his body half way under the ground, and began pinning his sharp roots upwards to the surface. Panicking, Hatter called his fellow species to the game with a loud cry. At least thirty Broom Hatters joined the battle.
Whispy shook the apples off his tree again and summoned the trees all around them to battle. One of the trees pulled it's sharp root out of the ground to stab the leader Hatter while Whispy launched apples, but Hatter jumped on the swinging root and reflected the apples with his broom. He jumped off the root and shouted some crazy battle cry in Japanese that shook the whole forest.
Hatter ordered every Broom hatter in the field to attack Whispy. They began running over to the old tree and started banging his bark with their broom sticks. All of a sudden, the trees surrounding the area pulled huge, sharp swords out of the ground! That's when things started to heat up..
"Oh, swords, we'll just see about that.." the Hatter ordered his cleaning friends something in a different language. Several Broom hatters disappeared, and in minutes they returned with packs of bombs which looked like they were taken from Poppy Bro. Jrs..
It was the next morning. Not a sound in the fields was traced in sight, except the sound of chirps from quite a few birds flying in the air and circling high above which the battle was taken place.
Down below lying on the ground was the sad bunch, who participated in the little 'war' for their rights of wood. Strange how two species would risk a majority of their lives for such a type of material.
Several trees around the area were chopped apart, including Whispy. All you could see left of them was their stumps, and dead faces laying their leaves on the ground. Apples lie everywhere smashed, including the purple juices of the poisonous ones spilling out of the evil fruits.
The Broom hatters and a few Poppy Bro. Jr's lie piled up on top of the grass and on some of the stumps, all slashed up and covered in blood. Swords were spilt everywhere in this chaotic bloody mess. Several brooms were on the ground next to the hatters, most of them broken in half.
One hatter, however, left survived, but not for long. The leader slowly limped to Whispy's stump, using his broom as a cane. He took his pocket knife out of his hat and stabbed it onto Whispy's stump resembling that the wood of the forest was now theirs.
"Yes, take that, Whispy.. This land is now ours. Take.. that.."
The hatter collapsed.
The hot sun continued to bake the worn out battle to the bones.
A bird landed on the ground and began picking the leader's skin off with it's beak.