Elmo was fed up.

That was a good way for Elmo to put it. He was fed up. Not the good kind of "fed", like when someone gave Elmo something yummy to fill his tummy. No, this was the bad kind of fed. Like when no one would let Elmo sing the alphabet. Or when a good oatmeal raisin cookie didn't go to someone who could actually eat it. Or, or when Elmo had to play jump rope...with a rock.

"Come on, Rocco! You can do it! You just gotta jump!"

Elmo decided not to say anything. Zoe wouldn't understand that rocks couldn't jump, no matter how many times she and Elmo swung the rope "low enough so Rocco could". All Elmo could see was a rock that didn't talk, couldn't dance, wasted good cookies, and would not-could not, never-ever jump. Why didn't Zoe understand that like Elmo did?

"Hey, Elmo, how come you're not swinging the rope anymore? We have to swing it just right so Rocco can jump."

What could Elmo say that he didn't already say before? Rocco was a rock. And because Rocco was a rock, Rocco couldn't jump. Or dance. Or speak. Or do any of the other stuff Zoe said he could do. What else could Elmo say?

"What's that, Rocco? You're tired. Yeah, I'm tired. I think Elmo's tired, too."

Elmo was very tired, all right. But Elmo decided to still not say anything.

Zoe lifted her pet rock. "Don't feel bad. You just need a bit more practice. Then you'll be really, really good at jumping rope!"

The only thing Rocco would ever, ever be good at was being a rock. But Elmo said, "Elmo doesn't wanna play jump rope anymore. Elmo's arms are tired."

"Yeah, my arms are tired, too. But I really wanted to help Rocco get better at jump rope."

Elmo didn't. "How about Zoe and Elmo play another game?"

Zoe held out the rock towards him. "And Rocco wants to play, too."

"Yes," Elmo said quickly, before the fed up part of him made it sound too mean.

"What else does Rocco want to play?"

"Rocco? But Elmo hasn't had a turn--"

"What's that, Rocco?" Zoe held the rock to her ear.

Elmo didn't hear anything, of course. And he knew it wasn't because he didn't speak rock.

"That's a great idea!" She smiled at Elmo. "Rocco wants to play..." She set her hands at her waist and posed. "...SUPERHEROES!"

Oh, boy! Elmo loved to play superheroes! "Elmo wants to play superheroes! Super Elmo to the Res--!"

"Wait, wait, wait!"

Elmo lowered his hand. "Why?"

"Because Rocco needs his costume." Zoe pulled out a little cape the same color as Elmo's fur (Elmo was sure it was just a little washcloth) and a tiny mask (Elmo couldn't see any eyes to put the mask over). She set them on Rocco and held him up. "You're a superhero, Rocco! You're Super Rocco!"

"Can Elmo be Super Elmo now?"

"Wait, wait, wait!"

"What?"

"I have to get my costume!"

"But Elmo really, really wants to play superheroes!"

"Could you watch Rocco while I get my costume?" Zoe shoved the avocado-sized rock into Elmo's hands. "You and Rocco can practice playing superheroes until I get back."

"But Zoe--"

Zoe didn't listen to Elmo and ran off to get her costume. "Rocco is going to be the greatest superhero ever when I get back!"

Elmo looked at the rock. "What is Elmo supposed to do with a rock?!" He shook his head. "How can a rock be a superhero? Rocks can't save people, stop bad guys, or fly." Elmo couldn't do that last thing, either, but that wasn't the point. "Elmo is tired of only playing games with a rock that can't play games! Why does Rocco always take Elmo's turn?!"

The little red monster paused. Then he groaned. "Why was Elmo talking to a rock? Rocks don't talk! And they don't play superheroes! And they get Elmo's favorite cookies!" Elmo screamed and threw up his arms. He then saw Rocco wasn't in his hands anymore.

Rocco...was flying?!

Elmo couldn't believe his eyes. But there was Rocco, who was just a rock, flying in the air. His washcloth cape swooshing behind him. Elmo couldn't believe it. A rock could fly, just like a real superhero? He had to find Zoe. He had to tell Zoe. Zoe wouldn't believe--

CRACK!

Oh, no! Elmo ran down the street. Maybe it only sounded really bad. Maybe it wasn't really bad at all. Maybe...

Rocco was cracked into five pieces, like a big egg made of rock. The top part still had the tiny mask and the top of the washcloth cape. But the other four pieces was definitely cracked apart. There was one piece the size of a tater tot with a unicorn horn. Another was flat, like a rock tongue. And the other two looked like two chunks of a broken coconut. Rocco was hurt. How could Elmo get so mad that he'd hurt Rocco?

Wait a minute! Rocco was just a rock! Rocks couldn't be hurt. They couldn't sing. They couldn't eat cookies. They couldn't play jump rope or superheroes or fly. Unless Elmo threw them...oh, no...

Elmo carefully picked up the pieces of Rocco. Maybe Rocco was just a rock, but he was Zoe's pet rock. And Elmo broke...

Elmo tried to push the pieces back together, but they wouldn't stay together. Zoe was going to be back with her superhero costume, but no Rocco to play superheroes with. Because Elmo got really, really mad and became really, really mean. And because of what Elmo did to Rocco, Zoe would be really, really sad or really, really mad. Or both! Elmo was fed up with Rocco and Zoe saying the rock could talk, but Elmo didn't want to hurt her. And he definitely could and would do that. Maybe if there was glue and tape, Elmo could fix Rocco--

"Elmo! Is Rocco ready to play superheroes?"

Oh, no, again! Elmo thought about trying to hide Rocco, but where could he go? And what was Elmo going to do? What could Elmo do?

"Is Rocco okay?"

The little red monster saw his orange-furred friend approach. She wore something similar to Rocco, with a purple mask and a purple towel she used as a cape. A large paper plate hung on a necklace, marked with a giant Z in purple crayon. "Sorry I was gone so long. I really had to make my superhero symbol look good. Where's Rocco?"

"Zoe, Elmo has to tell you something."

"Where's Rocco?" She laughed. "He's already playing superheroes, isn't he? I knew Rocco could do it."

"Zoe, that's not what Elmo has to tell--"

"Where's your costume, Elmo?"

"Elmo is trying to--"

"Where is Rocco?"

Elmo sighed and showed her. Zoe stared at the broken Rocco for a moment, and then took all of the broken pieces into her hands.

"Elmo is really, really sorry. Elmo really, really didn't mean to."

Zoe laughed.

"Zoe?"

"This is really great, Elmo."

"What?"

She smiled at him. "Rocco had babies!"

Elmo stared for a moment, and then began to scream.