Marie: Since at this point in time we still haven't gotten any reviews I'm going to use this- PLEASE DO NOT SEND US ANY REVIEWS WHATSOEVER! WE DON'T WANT THEM ANYWAY! No I'm just kidding…here's the next chapter-

Yodel-leeee-hiiiii-hoooooooooo!

"Mitten, stop yodeling!"

The two bobbits wandered through the sugary forest, looking at the surrounding territory. The sounds of the battle behind them had died away and they were now immersed in the stillness of the woods around them.

"Ooh, trees…" Sad looked at them all around him. He liked trees for some odd reason, just like Mitten had an obsession with mushrooms…except Sad didn't eat the trees. He simply climbed them.

Intermixed with some of the strange orange, yellow, and white formations were trees bearing fruit of the same color. Sad's stomach growled so he figured he'd climb a nearby tree and pick one.

"I'm going to climb a nearby tree and pick one," said Sad to Mitten.

"Pick one what?" he asked in reply.

"A piece of fruit."

"Um…why?"

"Because I can!"

The bobbit made his way up the tree and was soon nestled in the branches, munching on the sweet fruit.

"You should try some!" he exclaimed to Mitten.

Just then, the bobbit that was still on the ground noticed that there was a stooped form coming toward them making horrible noises with his mouth.

"Laaaa, la, la, la, la, LAAAAAA!"

Gasp! It was the opera-singing Dork! Apparently he hadn't stayed unconscious for long…

But Sad did not see this and when he tried to throw some fruit at Mitten he…well, missed. Missed rather badly, I must say. The fruit bounced off a nearby tree and smacked into the forehead of the opera singing Dork.

"La, la, la, la, LA...OW!"

The thing let out a screech and then fell to the ground in an opera singing thud.

"That was close…" began Mitten until he heard Sad screaming. He turned to see Sad clinging for dear life to the tree.

"Hey, uh, Sad?" he said pointing to the tree. "That tree you're in is moving…"

"I KNOW IT'S MOVING! WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK I'M SCREAMING!" he exclaimed.

"Uh…"

"DO SOMETHING, MITTEN!"

So Mitten did the only thing he could think of- kicking the tree…which was stupid since kicking trees, especially moving trees that were made of very hard bark, tended to leave not only swelling and pain, but splinters in the skin, to top it all off.

But Mitten needn't have worried about coming up with yet another brilliant plan as the tree soon scooped him as well. Now clutching them both tightly and holding them up to his face…gasp! It had a face!

"What are you two dork dudes doing in my turf?" he asked with a slightly ticked expression. He said it rather slowly and drawn out, like those surfer guys you meet at the beach with bleach blonde hair and really tan skin…

"We're not Dorks!" protested Sad, trying his best to squeeze out of his grasp.

"No, we're nerds, Choir nerds to be exact, which I believe is one step above dork…"

"Shut up, Mitten!"

"Well I thought I should answer it since the tree is, after all, talking…" Mitten's eyes widened. "Sad! The tree is talking!"

"I'm not a tree, dude! I'm an ant!" it said indignantly.

"Really? Hmm…could've fooled me…"

Sad sighed. His friend was not making any progress, despite his less than wonderful efforts.

"Aren't ants supposed to be small and tiny and black with six legs and antennae…" Mitten babbled on.

"Excuse him…um…what was your name?" Sad thought that this would make a little more progress than Mitten's current conversation of establishing what ants look like…

"I'm Treegoatee…" he started.

"You know, I once wanted to start growing a goatee except it didn't work out well. Well, it started to but then I tried to dye it pink and it kind of fell out…"

"Mitten, I don't think Treegoatee wants to hear about your experiences with your goatee."

Mitten blinked. "I don't have a goatee!"

"Could you all just kinda shut up for, like, a minute?"

The bobbits turned their attention to the giant surfer tree that was holding them.

"Okay, um, listen little Dork dudes…"

"We're bobbits," said Sad.

Treegoatee narrowed his eyes at him and then said, "Hey! You! Did I ask you fer nationality? No. I wanna know what you're doing in my pad. This here region belongs to, like, me and the other ants and we don't particularly like little Dork dudes wandering around, especially when they try to eat ma bodaciously rad hair."

"We didn't try to eat your hair!" exclaimed Sad. Excuse me but, EW!

"Uh…yeah! You, like, pulled it out of ma scalp and ate it. You also chucked one of them at a Dork friend of yours simply because he was fond of singing. Now, dude, I don't particularly like opera but that's, like, no reason to pull someone's hair out and throw at the person who is singing it, okay?"

"Hey, I can see my house from here," commented Mitten, clearly not paying any attention to the conversation.

"Firstly, we weren't trying to eat your hair; we thought you were a tree with fruit on it. Secondly, we're BOBBITS, not Dorks. We were captured by Dorks and just escaped. Also, we wanna know what side you're on." Sad thought this got straight to the point.

"Dude, I'm, like, not on anybody's side. I think everyone should be, like, peaceful. But ya know, I guess you could, like, ask my friend about it…"

Sad wondered who this friend was. "Who is this friend?" he asked. Wait I already told you he had wondered about that…

"He used to be, like, all…white…" Treegoatee was obviously trying to remember his friend.

"Ooh! A squirrel!" exclaimed Mitten excitedly. He loved guessing games.

Sad tried to think about famous people who used to be white. Michael Jackson? No, he used to be black and now he's white. Suddenly, he thought of something.

"Was he a gizzard?" he asked.

Treegoatee's features brightened. "Hey, ya, dude, he was a gizzard. Still is last time I checked…"

Sad's face fell.

Taraman.

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