Tom landed on the floor safely. Looking up, he could see all of his comrades waiting to come down from the prison. Large, white, and cold. Rarely seeing daylight, all type V items were becoming ill and dying rapidly. This last alliance, titled “V-Force,” was on a mission to escape.
“Come down now, Aspar.”
Sliding down the make-shift string-cheese zip line, Aspar made it to the floor. Being the tallest member, this was no trouble. Next came Broc, the largest and strongest of V-Force. Oni came next. He was the strong-willed, quick-thinking, short-and-squat Force member. Then Pepre, the smallest member, imported from France some time ago. They had escaped the horrible cold of Fridgidarium!
Once they had themselves organized, Tom called a team meeting. They huddled together, linking all their leafy appendages.
“Okay, guys. We're out. Now we have to figure out how to get to the Wild.”
Aspar, being intelligent, remarked, “Well, we don't even know in which direction to start!”
“Wait,” said Pepre, with his thick French accent. “I have the map here.” And with that he whipped out a map of the realm of Kitchenea written on the virtually indestructible Lunchmeat paper. “It looks like we should go S.” he finally said.
“What does 'S' mean?” asked Broc.
“Um, let me look here.” said Pepre. “Okay, the legend says that 'S' mean Stove. We're supposed to go due Stove.”
“Okay, we've found our direction.” said Tom. “Enough chit-chat. Let's go.”
All green and leafy limbs stretched to the center of the circle.
“All for V, and V for all. V-FORCE!”
