Deep in the Whimsy Woods, where the trees whispered secrets to the wind and the mushrooms giggled when you stepped on them, a little squirrel named Nibbles had a problem.
“I’M HOMELESS!” he squeaked dramatically, flopping onto a rock. His tail fluffed up like an angry dandelion.
The big old tree where he had lived his whole life had finally given up. It had been getting wobblier and wobblier, creaking like an old door in the wind, and that morning—CRASH! It had fallen over with a big thud, right in the middle of breakfast. Nibbles barely had time to grab his favorite acorn before his whole house turned into a pile of woodpecker apartments.
Just then, a deep voice rumbled, “Well, well, well… what do we have here? A dramatic squirrel?”
Nibbles leapt into the air, spun around three times, and landed in a pile of leaves with only his tail sticking out. “WHO SAID THAT?!”
“I did,” said a grand old tree with a face in its bark. Its eyes were made of knots, and its mouth was a wiggly crack in the trunk. “I am Sir Barkington the Third, the talking tree.”
“You… you TALK?” Nibbles gasped, brushing leaves from his nose.
“Well, obviously.” Sir Barkington wiggled his branchy eyebrows. “And I also tell excellent jokes. Want to hear one?”
Nibbles blinked. “Umm, okay?”
“What’s a tree’s least favorite month?” Sir Barkington asked, grinning.
“I don’t know…”
“Sep-TIMBERRR!” The tree laughed so hard that an acorn bonked Nibbles on the head.
“Ha! That was a good one,” Nibbles admitted, rubbing his head. “But I still need a home!”
Sir Barkington wiggled his branches. “Lucky for you, I’m an excellent house provider. Look up!”
Nibbles did, and to his delight, the tree had a perfect little hollow in its trunk, just the right size for a tiny squirrel.
“I can live there? Really?!” Nibbles’ tail puffed with excitement.
“Of course! You’ll have a built-in roof, extra storage space, and complimentary acorn service every autumn.”
Nibbles ran in circles. “This is AMAZING!”
“And the best part?” Sir Barkington grinned. “You’ll get to hear all my tree jokes, ALL DAY, EVERY DAY!”
“…Oh,” Nibbles said, suddenly unsure.
“Why do trees hate tests?”
Nibbles sighed. “Why?”
“Because they get stumped!”
Nibbles giggled despite himself. “Okay, okay, I guess I could get used to that.”
And from that day on, Nibbles and Sir Barkington became the best of friends. The little squirrel had a cozy home, and the tree had an audience for his endless supply of terrible jokes.
And if you ever walk through Whimsy Woods and hear a squirrel groaning and a tree laughing, you’ll know exactly where to find them.
The End.
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