This is a nice little parody featuring storm hawks
Disclaimer:dont own storm hawks readers digest or my planet
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Itching for a fight.Stork decided to plant a garden in a greenhouse on the condor but its overrun by poison Ivy so what does he do? he takes care of the problem!
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"wow Stork thats some fat sassy grass you have in your greenhouse I bet we have the fattest sassiest grass in all of atmos"said Finn.Thats when Piper let Stork in on a little secret.There was no grass in the greenhouse only fat,sassy poison Ivy.Stork pointed out that unlike everything else in the yard,the ivy was thriving and maybe
we should go after something else,like that malingering rosebush.

"Why evict the one thing that actually wants to be here"
Stork reasoned.

Here's why:Piper doesn't like poison ivy.Something about the word poison makes her think
it can't be good for you.

So the Stork Hawks called in landscapers to get estimates.The first took one look at the giant greenhouse,then called his skimmer dealer and ordered a BMW,
the one that comes with a chauffeur.The second charged by the blade of grass.That's when Stork drove into town looking for one of those cheap illegal aliens
the media insists in on every street corner in Atmos.

"Are you an illegal alien?" Stork asked the first guy he saw.
"No,im the mayor" he said
"Are you an illegal alien?" he asked another.
"no,I'm your neighbor."
"Are you an illegal alien?"
"No,I,m your girlfriend you idiot," said Piper shoving a rake in Stork's hand and telling him to take care of it himself.

One of the problems with poison ivy is you can't simply grab it by the collar and toss it out like a drunk from some bar.You have to suit up for battle--rubber gloves
duct-taped to a long sleeve shirt buttoned to your neck.Long pants with cuffs duct-taped over his socks and work boots.A scarf wrapped tightly around
neck and face,duct taped to goggles and hat,completes what Stork calls the jackass look.Armed with pruner and weed killer,he was no longer
a greenhouse owner unable to find an illegal alien to do the work he didn't want to do.He was,in fact a knight of the backyard realm.

Since he had no idea what poison ivy looked like,he kept his plan of attack simple:Anything remotely planty goes.Ferns?Gone!
Hosta?Gone! Rosebush?Gone! Trees?Gone! Mailbox?Gone! He was Sherman marching on Atlanta,laying waste to anything in his path.What the weedkiller
didn't get,he ripped out with his hands.What he coudn't rip out, he ran over with his Storkmobile.

"That's the Bogtonian maple!" screamed Piper.

"Now it's mulch,"he said grinning devilishly over the whirring sound of his own invention,the mulchinator.

By the end of the day,he had rid the greenhouse of all the poison ivy save for one sorry little clump.Like the heads of the vanquished
left on spikes outside medieval castle walls,it served as a warning to any of it's kin that might dare show their shiny three leaves around there again.

After that Piper figured out that all Stork's tireless work had reduced the condor's value to a third.So she hired one of the landscapers to return the greenhouse
to its previous state of disrepair.They went with the guy who charged by the blade,with no grass left they figued,how expensive can it be?