Title: Say It With Humans
Fandom: Original Work
Rating: G
Length: 496
Author notes: The fanfic I was working on hasn't come together in time, so I have taken refuge in anthropomorphism, original fic and insanity. On a plus note, I think I have finally learnt how to spell "rhododendron".
Summary: The Cultivated Flower Amateur Dramatics Group is putting on their version of The Three Little Pigs.

The Cultivated Flower Amateur Dramatics Group was putting on a performance of The Three Little Daisies.

The first little daisy had chosen to make its home in some soil that had a worryingly meagre water supply.

The lupin stalked on. “Little daisy, little daisy, let me share your home!”

“No!” cried the daisy. “Not by the nutrients in my mildly acidic loam!”

The lupin drew itself up to its full height. “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff— And I’ll divert your water supply entirely away from you!”

“Aaaargh!” cried the daisy, and scampered off stage left.

In the audience, a rhododendron leant over to whisper to a hollyhock. “Should we make like a tree and leave?”

“Let’s hang on a little longer,” the hollyhock whispered back.

The second daisy had chosen to make its home in the shade of a Brownie hut.

“Little daisy, little daisy, let me share your home!” declaimed the lupin.

“Not by the nutrients in my mildly acidic loam!” called back the daisy.

“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff… and I’ll tell the Brownies you’re here, and they’ll come and make a daisy chain out of you!”

“Aaaargh!” cried the second daisy, and scampered offstage.

“How the mulch do you make a daisy chain out of one daisy?” whispered the rhododendron.

The hollyhock shrugged.

The last little daisy had picked the perfect spot—bit of sun, bit of shade, plenty of nutrients, and just enough water.

Its siblings quivering behind it, the daisy stared steadily at the lupin.

The lupin grinned back. “Little daisy, little daisy, let me share your home!”

“Not by the nutrients in my mildly acidic loam!” said the daisy firmly.

“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” said the daisy.

“I’ll—” The lupin frowned and appeared to be considering it.

There was quite a pause.

“You’re taking your time,” said the daisy pleasantly. “Have you taken root there?”

“What if I have?” snarled the lupin.

The daisy shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. But that portion of earth gets waterlogged.”

“What?” said the lupin.

“Yes!” said the daisy. “Your base will start to rot, and in one to three months you’ll be dead!”

“Aaaargh!” yelled the lupin.

“Hooray!” shouted the daisies.

In the audience, the rhododendron shook its head slowly from side to side in disbelief.

But it and the hollyhock clapped their leaves politely when the actors lined up to take their bow.



“Well,” said the rhododendron, as the two of them made their way home to their beds. “The adaptation was an interesting experiment but these non-plant stories are bizarre. I really didn’t understand it.”

The hollyhock nodded. “The cast did well though. They certainly deserved those huge bouquets of mixed humans they were presented with—weren’t they gorgeous?”

“Do you think so?” The rhododendron looked doubtful. “They looked like they were wilting a bit to me.”

The hollyhock shrugged. “I daresay they’ll be all right, as long as they’re put into a pub straightaway.”