Creative Writing 1
[ A humorous take on the birth of Vegetarians. ]
You may have always wondered why certain people refuse to eat animal products. Let me tell you, it has nothing to do with their moral values or general preferences to not eat meat. Their vegetarianism is completely based upon how they were raised. It depends on how they were born, actually. Most humans are born from, well, humans. Vegetarians are born from plants, as the word insists; they might as well not be considered humans at all. I like to call this select species “cabbage kids.”
On the sunniest of days in the fields of Idaho, nestled between the many rows of potato plants, sporadically sprouts curly cabbage plants. Each day until noon, the curly cabbages rapidly grow until they exceed a diameter of two feet. The cabbages continue to grow throughout the afternoon.
Beginning in the very center of the cabbage, a careful observer would see what looks like two separate, peachy cheeks pushing out of the cabbage’s heart. This, is of course the rump of the baby cabbage kid. All cabbage kids emerge with their butts high in the air. Because of this manner, the cabbage kids are naturally a pain in the ass to those who have developed more humanly, or rather, to those who partake in different diets than they do.
After the little rump pops out, the cabbage kid’s body tears through the vegetation; next the observer would see fleshy thighs and a hunching over, curving spine abnormally sprouting from the surrounding, green leaves. At this point in the birth, the observer would be seeing a rather ridiculous thing. Amidst rows of the native potatoes grows a cabbage that seems to have swallowed an infant, face and feet descending first. The infant appears uncomfortably bent into the center hole of the cabbage, looking as if it were attempting to crawl out and escape.
Next is the most stubborn stage of birth. The cabbage kid requires assistance to be squeezed out because vegetarians are so doggone uncompromising when it comes to disobeying their moral standards. At this point, it is almost as if the cabbage kid is refusing to come into the world; maybe they know that they will be harshly ridiculed for their abstinence of meat and have decided it better to avoid all future pain and simply stay there, stuck in that curly cabbage.
But, the cabbage pushes otherwise. With all of its leafy might, the vegetative fluids flowing up from the roots to the cabbage’s stems convulse the remainder of the infant body outward—more abruptly than anything—and plops it onto its leaves with a shuddering, thudding slap on the cabbage’s over-sized leaves. The leaves of the curly cabbage fold over top of the infant’s newborn flesh to wipe off the excess vegetative birthing fluids. Laying there in the leaves, the cabbage kid’s heart pumps its organs and rapidly commences life by stealing all of the energy from its mother cabbage itself. As the life is stolen from the cabbage in a disturbing, parasitic manner, the mother cabbages’ leaves shrivel as its energy becomes depleted. Success. Another cabbage kid is born by choking the mother cabbage of all life. The cabbage would no longer be seen by an observer. All that remains is a pile of earthy soil to fertilize the surrounding potato plants, giving no evidence to this repulsive birth. Out crawls the desperate, parasitic vegetarian, grasping the soil with its gross baby hands, ready to consume the life of other earthly beings.