The Worst Escape Yet!

Anyway, it seemed like, one way or another, we had all heard of the rafflesia.

Even worse: now we had all smelled it.

"I think I'm gonna be sick…" My hand shot to my mouth.

Otherwise known as the corpse flower, the rafflesia is famous for its distinct smell similar to that of rotting flesh.

"Why the heck do you have a rafflesia here of all places?" Or, wait, did I not even want to know?

"Well," Sandy explained, "in addition to being an inexplicably accomplished sandcastle architect, I also — pause for dramatic effect" — she paused for dramatic effect — "— am an amateur gardener! This fully grown rafflesia is probably my greatest accomplishment."

"Wait. Hang on." I was confused. "Are you sure your greatest accomplishment as a gardener isn't the, you know, forest-sized and, apparently, freaking sentient venus flytrap keeping us captive inside the castle walls?"

"Huuuuuuuuuuuuuh?!?!?!?!? Of course not! Aphy isn't just any old plant! She's my pet!"

"The difference being?"

Sandy just sighed and adjusted the wide brim of her witch hat as if to say "you wouldn't get it."

And if she had said it, she'd be right. I didn't get it. In fact, all I had gotten since this morning was the impression that this beach and everything and everyone on it were totally nuts.

"Being the best pet ever of all time that she is," Sandy told us, "naturally Aphy was as upset as I was that none of my friends, family members, or the random strangers I forcibly dragged back to my home wanted to stick around and admire my rafflesia with me. Soooooooooo, she decided to help me out and help guide you three here so that we can all gaze upon the unrivaled beauty of rafflesia arnoldii, the largest flower the vegetable kingdom has to offer, together!"

I was gazing upon something alright. The source of the worst smell I had ever smelled in my life through watery eyes. The smell was so bad it was all I could do not to break down crying where I stood.

Snowball and Fence looked to be in the same boat, clearly as uncomfortable, to put it mildly, with the scent as I was.

"Wait. Don't tell me…" Sandy's expression hardened instantly. "Don't tell me you don't want to appreciate my rafflesia with me either. Why? Why does no one ever want to?!"

My bet was because of the smell. But it was really a 50/50 between that and the fact that the person who grew the damn thing wasn't even in the orbit of sanity.

"The last person who didn't like my rafflesia," Sandy said through a bitter frown, "became Aphy's dinner."

OH SHIT.

That was definitely our cue to get the hell outta dodge. Me, Snowball, and Fence weren't always eye to eye on a lot of things, but I was pretty sure we all agreed we didn't want to wind up plant food!

"Th-thanks for the offer," Snowball said, chuckling nervously. "But, we have to go uh… uh… UH…!"

Seriously? Could she not even think of a single good excuse for us to GTFO the heck outta here? And this was the girl who probably would have won half a dozen nobel prizes by now if she didn't decorate all her inventions with glitter and stickers.

"Do that thing, right, dude?" Fence! Nice. Coming in clutch was his specialty.

"Right!" I added, not wanting not to pull my weight. Getting the heck out of this madhouse was gonna have to be a team effort. "That really, really important thing. So… later!"

We made a dash for the door. The fact that we were actually completely trapped by Aphy outside was a bridge we'd have to burn when we got to it. Or whatever the saying was.

For now, all we could do was RUN!

"Not so fast! Aphy? Get 'em!"

Before we could even make it to the door, the ground started shaking, and there came an awful rumbling sound, deep and low, the kind of sound you can feel in your gut.

Then, one of Aphy's stalks burst through the wall, its gaping green and pink maw gnashing as it pitched toward us.

We didn't even have half a second to blink, think, or abruptly heelturn before even more jumbo venus flytrap mouths broke through, leaving a series of disintegrated sand walls in their wake, and shot at us from every direction.

"Crap, dude! Crap!"

"Fascinating! Also, wow, they really are cute! Also, oh my god, we're gonna die!!!"

"Killed by overgrown celery hungry for human flesh! Was a normal day at the beach so much to ask for?!"

Yes, apparently.

Me, Snowball, and Fence were cornered.

"You take that back," Sandy shouted, stomping again. "She is not celery! Aphy, make sure to teach these guests some manners while you slowly digest them— Huh? What's that?"

Another rumble sounded out, even lower and deeper than before, and we all froze.

Silence.

Everything was still.

Then, a few grains of sand fell into my eye. I blinked them out and…

Wait.

Fell?

I looked up.

"Oh no."

Its structural integrity totally compromised, the castle was beginning to disintegrate. We all dove for cover from a rain of a thousand gallons of sand.

Except there was no cover. The entire mansion was made of sand, an entire desert's worth, practically. Meaning the entire mansion was coming down on us.

"Oh come on! Is this seriously happening?"

"Well, this was in the forecast for today, dude" Fence offered, taking a few of the last remaining seconds of our lives before our extremely likely deaths to correct me, because what are friends for I guess. "Remember, dude? Heavy rains resulting in flood conditions?"

"They could've mentioned the part where they meant sand! Also, how did they even predict this?" The weather app on my phone was getting scarily good.

Too bad I probably wasn't going to live to see it get any better.

"What do we do, Snowball?" She was typically the last person I would ever turn to for help. But I knew that if anyone would be able to get us out of this mess somehow, it was her.

"I don't know. I've run all the numbers in my head, front to back, back to front, and upside down" — no surprises there; her brain was faster than a supercomputer — "and every possible outcome results in our getting snacked on or crushed under a mountain of sand."

"Great."

"But there might be one way…"

"Nice! What is it?"

Entire chunks of the ceiling were coming down now. How the whole place was still standing and still hadn't collapsed into a heaping mound yet was beyond me, but I was thankful all the sand falling on Aphy's mouths was keeping them from snapping us up like a shark would a bunch of minnows.

"Well, it's not exactly the safest bet…"

"You're picking now of all times to start practicing due caution?!"

"Just tell us, dude!" Fence was on the same page as me. "No, actually, just do it!"

"Umm… If you say so…" Snowball whipped her modified camera out of nowhere. It was the one that she'd used to sucker punch me earlier. The one spring loaded with a cartoon boxing glove. The Super Punch 💖, she'd named it.

"Oh no," I said, and then gulped dryly. "I know where this is going."

I looked to Fence in desperation. He just shrugged, like he was telling me what we both already knew: we had no other choice.

For a seventh of a second, my brain scrambled for another way out, a different answer.

Then all the walls collapsed and the entire ceiling burst.

"Ok, that's our cue!" Snowball shouted, snapping us all back to harrowing reality. There was about a million pounds of sand in freefall above us, and half a dozen enormous, hungry venus flytrap heads barrelling our way.

No more time to think. No more time to find another way out. All we had time left to do was lean into the punch.

"Ok, guys! Huddle up, grit your teeth" — arms around both of our necks with her in the middle, Snowball turned the camera toward the three of us like she was about to take a selfie — "and say cheese!"

"Wait, how are we supposed to say 'cheese' with our teeth gri– BWAWHAWGWWHHWGWHGWHW!!!!!!!!!"

And that's the story of the second worst tongue bite ever sustained by man. I would later go on to be recognized by Guinness World Records, the scientific community, and that coalition of intelligent chimpanzees who meet at my local bowling alley every other Tuesday to discuss their world domination plans as the holder of two, count 'em, other world records for first and third worst tongue bite ever sustained by man, and (thanks to a strange series of events involving a little-documented loophole in the rules, an international underground emu racing league, a sequined dress, and a bean salad) fifth worst tongue bite ever sustained by a woman.

But that's another story for another time.

To be continued!