The Ballad of the Rancid Veggies

Five young vegetables are growing up fast and noticing some changes.

D.K. Celery woke up late one morning, feeling a bit off. As he brushed his teeth, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost jumped. His stalk was soft and browning, and his proud tufts of leafy green hair were dark and moist. 

“It’s gonna be a long day,” he muttered to himself as he rummaged through his dresser looking for his Ramones t-shirt. 

Across the street and around the corner, Peoria Tomato was also having a rough morning. Her normally shiny red skin had a rumpled look, and she felt a little itch behind her stem. 

Peoria’s stomach was sloshy, and she debated staying home from school. She could spend all day practicing guitar instead. Then she remembered she had a math test in third period. 

Meanwhile, her nextdoor neighbor Rotty Asparagus woke up with a fright. He’d stayed up late watching music videos and nearly overslept. Rushing to get dressed, he noticed the pale yellow color of his stalky skin. 

“Eww,” he said, as he flipped a drooping sprout away from his eyes. “I really hate Mondays.” He grabbed his backpack and ran out the door to catch the school bus. 

About a half an hour later during first period, a group of boys teased Whiffy Squash. They called her “slimer” and “stinker” because her yellow rind was wet and gave off a strong smell. The teacher didn’t even notice when they started throwing paper airplanes at her. Whiffy ran out of the room crying. 

Just then, Withers Calabasa came strolling down the hallway, late for school and looking like he was in a bad mood. His pumpkin shell was soft with black blotches popping up all over his face. He looked like a lumpy jack o'lantern. 

He watched Whiffy run right past him, crying and blabbering something about bullies. Withers knew how she felt. Harvey T. Salad Elementary School had a meanie in every class. 

Down the hall, D.K. Celery was listening to the science teacher talk about the natural decomposition process, when the boy in the next desk handed him a folded note. The kid snickered as D.K. opened it.

GO BACK TO YOUR CELL, IN THE CELLAR, CELERY.  

D.K. rolled his eyes at the bad joke. Then a piece of crumpled paper hit him in the head and landed on his desk. He unruffled it and saw a crude drawing of a bent celery stalk with the caption: D.K. SMELLERY. 

When he turned to face his attacker, D.K. saw the whole back row of the classroom making disgusted faces at him and holding their noses. He grabbed the hall pass and ran to the boy’s restroom.

Peoria Tomato had a similar experience in her class. Three girls had shouted “PEE YEW!” when Peoria walked by to take her seat. Then another kid called her KETCHUP FACE. She felt like she was going to throw up so she got up and left. 

In the boy’s room, Rotty Asparagus splashed water on his face. At that moment, D.K. Celery walked in, looking flushed with anger. The two of them noticed each other and nodded. 

“They picking on you again?” Rotty asked.  

“Same kids, every time,” said D.K. “I hate this school.”

“I know how you feel,” said Rotty. “A girl threw a rotten banana at me this morning on the school bus. She said we belong together.”

“Sounds like the lyrics to a punk rock love song,” D.K. remarked.

“She meant me and the banana.” Rotty did a little dance and played the air drums. Both of them laughed at that.

“I just wish I could find a way to get back at them,” said D.K.

“Maybe we can,” said another voice. The two vegetables looked toward the doorway, where Withers Calabasa had just walked in, face dripping with a white liquid. 

“What happened to you?” asked Rotty. 

“Some kid in the hallway threw spoiled milk on me.” Withers went to the sink to clean up. “I have an idea I want to talk to you guys about.”

Suddenly, they heard a scream from across the hall. The three of them ran out to see what was going on. The commotion was coming from inside the girl’s restroom. Withers walked up to the door and shouted: “Everything alright in there?”

“Everything’s fine.” Peoria Tomato walked out. “Just some girl stuff.” Right behind her, Whiffy Squash came out, tears caked on her face. She pointed to her hair. It was moldy. Peoria made a sad face. It was clear the two girls had been crying together. 

“I’m so tired of getting tortured all the time,” said Whiffy, wiping her nose. “I want to do something about it.” The five of them stood looking at each other. They all agreed but no one was sure what to say. 

Then the bell rang and the hall filled up with students. A group of fifth grade boys walked by and stopped in front of the group of veggies. 

“Look at these rotten losers,” said the biggest kid. He nudged his friend with an elbow. “Do you smell that? Yuck!” 

The other boy giggled and then pinched his nose. Several other boys laughed. Suddenly a crowd of children had gathered and were standing in a circle around Withers, D.K., Peoria, Rotty, and Whiffy. They pointed and jeered. Then a loud voice shrieked.

“These veggies are positively RANCID!” 

The entire hallway exploded with cruel laughter. Several boys slapped high fives. It was totally humiliating. After a minute or so, the crowd dispersed, leaving the five of them alone again.

Withers spoke up first. “I have an idea of how we can back at them.” He pointed to a poster on the wall. They turned to read it:

HARVEY T. SALAD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL 

FALL TALENT SHOW - OCTOBER 15

DEADLINE TO ENTER: TOMORROW

“Let’s start a band,” said Withers. 

Rotty and D.K. smiled. Why didn’t they think of this before? “I can play the drums,” said Rotty. 

“I can play tambourine!” shouted Whiffy. “And Peoria rocks on the guitar.”

“Me too, dudes,” said D.K.

“Don’t we need a singer?” asked Peoria.

“I think I can help with that,” Withers said with a smile. “First band practice is today at my house, 3 o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“What do we call the band?” asked D.K. Everyone went quiet. They all said, “hmmmm.”

For the next four weeks, they practiced every day after school, and twice a day on the weekends. It was hard work but they all believed in it. And they got better.

The veggies continued to face trouble at school. But everyone just ignored it. They had something more important to focus on now. 

The day of the talent show arrived, and the band was ready. They gathered with the other talent backstage before the show. Rotty peeked out from behind the curtain and saw the whole school was there, and all the parents, too. The place was packed.

They were the last act of the show, so they had time to wait. Some of the other kids waiting backstage frowned at the vegetables and held up their noses. But everyone was nervous, so no one made much noise. 

After a while, it was time to go on. Peoria and D.K. shared a few last guitar tips. Rotty and Whiffy shook hands. Then they took their places on stage behind the curtain. They could hear the Emcee introduce them.

“Let’s give a big round of applause for our final act, THE RANCID VEGGIES!” 

The curtain opened, and the entire crowd was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not a single hand clapped. The stone cold silence lasted for 10 seconds. 

Then D.K. laid down a smooth baseline. “Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum.”

Then Rotty started in with the drums. “Boom-bas-boom-boom-bas-boom-bas.”

Then Whiffy started shaking the tambourine. “Tss-tss-tss-tss-tss-tss-tss.”

Then Peoria went off on a scalding guitar riff. “Skree-ah-ree-ah-ree-ah-skree-ah-ree-ah.”

Then a smoke machine hissed and billowed fog as the stage lights began to buzz and dance. 

Then Withers set the house on fire with the lyrics of a song: “We are the smelly ones. We are the stinky ones. We are the slimy ones. We are the rotten ones. WE ARE THE RANCID VEGGIES! WE ARE LIKE EVERYONE!”

The audience erupted with shouts of joy. Parents and children stood up and danced. The entire auditorium became a massive party with everyone screaming and cheering and applauding the spectacle in front of them. The Rancid Veggies brought the house down. 

And they won the talent show. 

After that night, no one ever insulted, bullied, heckled, harassed, jeered, joshed, or picked on them ever again. The Rancid Veggies became famous, and the whole school became their biggest fans. Even those lousy fifth grade boys.