...
Lammy was steadily catching up Mr. Pickels. They ended up at the edge of the block of which the park was located in. The chase was now taking place on a sidewalk, and it was headed downhill. Mr. Pickles didn't seem to be getting tired at all, but Lammy was huffing and puffing.
"Go-o-otta... get... him..." panted the sheep.
...
The Mole was pushing his ice-cream cart uphill on that same sidewalk, hoping for more customers.
...
Mr. Pickels was getting close to the cart. When he reached it, he got on his side and rolled under the cart down its front side. When he got to the other side of the cart, the back side that was being pushed, he ran right around the Mole. But before continuing on his path away from Lammy, he went back to the Mole and gave him a sweep kick that knocked him down. Then he turned and went back to running downhill, leaving the Mole on the ground.
...
Lammy reached the ice-cream cart after. She jumped up on top it. Then, from there, she jumped down, over the Mole, and tumbled forward on the sidewalk. The sheep got up quickly and looked down at the purplish mole. "So-o-o-o-orry!" she said to him. Then she went back to chasing after the fruit, saying, "Mr. Pickels! Sto-o-o-o-op!" The Mole was left behind, nursing his kicked ankle.
Cub was rolling his little toy firetruck, sitting on the sidewalk. As he played with it, he made vocal sound effects such as "Vroom" for the engine or "WOOOOOOOOOO" for the siren. He didn't have his father with him; Pop was still napping on the bench by the playground. Cub just wandered his way up here.
...
Mr. Pickels was getting near the child as he ran. When he got close enough, the pickle grabbed the toy truck from Cub's paws and took a few steps back from him. Then he placed the truck on the ground and shoved it, hard, towards Cub. The truck hit the boy on his right foot, probably giving it a bruise.
...
Cub yelped when the toy hit him. He bent his leg, pulling his foot toward himself to look at it. There was no bruise... yet. It was going to form later. Lammy was with Cub and his toy truck now. Out of desperation, she put her right foot on the truck and propelled herself with her left, using the truck as a skateboard, or a single skate shoe. She rode it towards where Mr. Pickels was going. "I'm so-o-o-o-orry!" she called back to Cub. Cub still sat on his spot, crying.
Lumpy was taking a walk, feeling relaxed and carefree. Lammy wheeled downhill after Mr. Pickels, gaining on him faster than she was when running.
She's got him now! Oh wait, no she hasn't.
"A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-AH!" screamed the sheep when she saw Lumpy ahead of her.
...
Mr. Pickels simply ran around the light blue moose.
...
Unfortunately for Lammy, she didn't know how to steer on the truck.
"Huh?" Lumpy said in his deep voice. He saw Lammy riding rapidly toward him. "A-A-A-AH!" he shrieked, with a voice that was suddenly higher than Lammy's.
BAM.
The sheep collided with the moose, tumbling with him briefly. Lammy landed on her face on the rough, hard sidewalk, a few feet away from Lumpy, who ended up lying on his back. Lumpy sat up, looked around, and turned to Lammy. He gave her a glare. "Watch where you're going, will ya!" he barked while shaking his fist.
"So-o-o-orry! I'm so so-o-o-orry," apologized a guilty Lammy. Then she went back to chasing Mr. Pickles, forgetting about the toy truck.
Lumpy got up and dusted himself off. He started walking again and muttered to himself, "Hmph. Some people need to pay attention to where their going-WHAH!" He tripped over a fire hydrant.
...
The chase was still going. Lammy was panting badly, but she was not going to give up. Mr. Pickels was nearing the curved corner of the block. Just ahead, there waited a four-lane road. Mr. Pickels hopped off the curb and down to the road, jaywalking. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" yelled the dumbfounded sheep.
The pickle stopped and looked back at her in the middle of the third lane. He seemed to be waiting for her. Lammy was a bit relieved that he decided to stop, but she would be even more relieved when she caught him. So she ran straight towards Mr. Pickels. There were no cars on the first and second lanes that Lammy crossed, but when she came to the third lane, where he was...
There came one.
...
A navy blue car was driving at twenty-five miles per hour on that third lane, steadily wheeling towards the sheep and the pickle. Its horn sounded.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK.
It was a loud and long one. Lammy froze in her tracks, now standing in the middle of the third lane, where Mr. Pickels was. Her eyes locked on the approaching vehicle. She didn't even scream; she was paralyzed.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH.
Lammy covered her ears to lessen the piercing noise. Her eyes were squeezed shut. When she heard through her muffled ears that it was over, she removed her paws from her ears and looked up at the car before her.
The very front part of the car was just a foot away from touching her. She gasped.
The driver's door opened. A green bear who wore a green camouflaged army uniform stepped out. He ran to Lammy.
Startled, Lammy took sevaral steps back.
"Lammy! Oh my gosh, are you okay?!" asked Flippy, worried. He had his eyes wide.
Lammy was silent for a bit. Then she exhaled deeply.
"Yea-a-ah... yea-a-a-ah I'm all right," she said, sounding uncertain.
"Are you sure?" said Flippy.
"Yes..." Lammy answered.
"What are you doing here? This isn't where you're supposed to cross!" he told her.
"I know! But... I'm a-a-after someone! It's really important tha-a-at I ca-a-a-atch him..." Lammy explained.
Flippy tilted his head slightly. He was curious. "Really? Who?" he asked.
...
Mr. Pickels, who stood on Lammy's right, looked up at her, and then at Flippy, and then at her again. He glanced down to her right leg. Suddenly, he jumped to it and clung on. From there, he leaped up to her side, grasping her wool coat. He used it to climb up to her right shoulder. Lammy's eyes grew in surprise when she looked to her right, at him. The pickle's little black eyes focused on Flippy. Then, the fruit propelled himself from Lammy's shoulder to Flippy, with his tiny fist aimed at the green bear's face.
...
POW.
Flippy was sent flying backwards from the impact of the punch. He was hit through the windshield of his car, which shattered, ending up inside.
...
Mr. Pickels did a front flip before landing back on the pavement.
...
Lammy's jaw dropped. Boy, could that "fruit punch."
"OH... MY..." said Lammy loudly, looking utterly stupefied.
She couldn't see Flippy in the car right now, but she could hear him groaning in pain.
This made her yelp, worried for the bear. She turned her head to Mr. Pickels, who was now running again. He was already past the fourth lane and on the other side of the road. The pickle hopped up to the sidewalk of the new block and ran on it. "HEY!" she shouted at him. Then she gave a groan, but unlike Flippy's, hers was out of irritation. Lammy ran after Mr. Pickels, who seemed to have infinite stamina.
"Come... ba-a-a-a-ck..." she huffed. She didn't want to have to chase him. She didn't want to have to chase anyone. This was exhausting. She just wanted get to rest. There had to be some way to catch Mr. Pickles. While sprinting, she looked downward. Her eyes stopped at a round, grey rock that she was running towards. It was the size of a baseball. Lammy had an idea.
She bent down, while still running, and quickly scooped up the rock with her left paw. Then she passed the rock from her left paw to her right. With the rock in her right paw, Lammy pulled back her arm, still not ceasing to run.
She aimed. Her small target was well ahead of her, probably a good thirty feet away. And it's not easy to hit a moving target. Lammy closed her eyes, took a very deep breath, and opened them again. Her focus was strong.
She threw the rock.
The round rock rocketed ahead of Lammy. It passed through the air with speed. It moved swiftly and steadily, getting closer and closer to a certain running fruit with a top hat.
BOMP.
The baseball-sized rock struck the middle of Mr. Pickels's backside. It caused him to fall forward onto the dusty sidewalk. He was no longer running.
"Yes!" Lammy said, feeling victorious. She slowed down her strides. The running turned into jogging. Then the jogging turned into power-walking. When she got within a few feet of Mr. Pickels, her steps got slower. Lammy was now taking slow steps toward him. When she got to him, she looked down at him. She bent down and picked him up. She turned him around in her paws so that she could look upon his mustached face. His eyes and mouth were shut. His curled mustache was still neat after that fall. He looked peaceful, like a sleeping infant.
...
Lammy held the faceless pickle. A small smile formed on her lips. "Go-o-otcha," she bleated gently.
After Nutty saw that Giggles and Petunia had been carried away into an ambulance truck, headed for a safe place to possibly have their poisoned bodies treated, he decided to search for that lavender-skinned sheep.
"Now where did she go?" Nutty asked himself out loud.