My writing group did a challenge—write a twisted version of “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie”. This was mine:
IF YOU GIVE A HUMMINGBIRD A HATCHET
If you give a hummingbird a hatchet, he will plummet to the ground from the weight. That will piss him off, and he’ll seek revenge.
He’ll probably notice that the hatchet is dull and ask you for a whetstone to sharpen it, because dull hatchets are not suitable for revenge.
If you give him a whetstone, because he’s a cute little hummingbird who couldn’t possibly hurt anything, he’s sure to ask you for some water for the whetstone.
If you give him the water he’ll sharpen the hatchet to a wicked edge. Then he’ll probably ask you to bend down close and accept what you have coming to you.
At this point you may feel the first shiver of fear creep up your spine, so you’ll run.
He will absolutely chase you, the hatchet thumping against your hardwood floors as he drags it behind him, his little claws making scritch-scritch sounds that fray your nerves like nails down a blackboard.
Just when you think you’re going to make the front door, as your outstretched fingers brush the knob, you’ll probably hear something that sounds very much like an evil cackle as your legs suddenly stop working in a rush of blinding pain.
He may crack a smile then, just a hint, and he’ll ask you what it feels like to have your achilles tendons severed. Then he’ll go to work with the hatchet.
When he’s done he’ll ask you for a mop to clean up the mess. But you won’t be able to answer. This will piss him off all over again, And he’ll probably head for your neighbor’s house.
Let’s hope they have a mop.