Water Bug Goes to France

This is a story that me and my mom and dad wrote with a game that I made up where you write down a couple of words at random, and then you have to use all the words in one part. And then you write down another set of words, and the next person would write a part using those words - until you finish the story.

Once upon a time there was a water bug who was wading in the water and trying to find something to eat. He was wearing glasses and played the guitar. His favorite food was carrots. At swimming class he practiced running on water. Where he took the swimming lessons there was a big pile of junk. He thought he might be able to find a carrot in there.

The water bug did not find a carrot in the junk pile. What the water bug did find was something more astounding, more remarkable, more incredible than anything the water bug could possibly have imagined. At first the water bug thought the thing it had found was only a lowly flower, a mundane, everyday sort of flower. And although it was in fact a flower, it was something entirely magical - a magical flower, a most incredibly magical flower.
“Hello!” said the flower to the water bug as it shone in the junk pile like the sun in the sky on a clear, cloudless day. The water bug jumped back. It didn’t know what to say. It found itself for the fist time in its life utterly tongue-tied. “What wish may I grant you?” asked the flower.
The water bug looked askance. “You’re not for real, are you?”
“What have you got to lose?” the flower responded.
And the water bug, having considered this, said, “Well, ok. I’ve always dreamed of going to France.”
“France?” asked the flower.
“Yes,” said the water bug. “I hear they have very nice cheese there.”
“Well,” said the flower. “If you go to France, you’ll need some way to get around.” “Yes,” said the water bug. “How about a golf cart.”
“Ok,” said the flower, “No problem. And you might need a guide since you probably don’t speak French, do you?” The water bug had to admit that he did not speak French. “No problem,” said the flower, rubbing his two leaves together in a can-do manner. “I will give you this salamander to accompany you.”

And with that the water bug found himself instantly transported to Paris in a golf cart. Seated next to him, wearing quite a becoming floral sundress and bright pink nail polish was a lady salamander. “How do you do?” she asked.
“Very well, thank you,” replied the water bug.
“How are you enjoying Paris?” asked the salamander.
“Well, I’ve only just arrived,” said the water bug.
“Then we must be off,” said the salamander, “For there is much to see.”
They toured the land of the kingdoms of old, snacking on ketchup and treating their noses to new aromas.
“My, but the cars are all so small here!” remarked the water bug.
“Yes, it’s not like in the United States,” agreed the salamander who had been translating all day and whose tongue was quite exhausted.

Soon they came to the Louvre where they went inside and saw lots of paintings. They went to the Asian part and saw a Buddha. The floor was marble. And then, once they were all museumed out they decided to go shopping for a little bit, buying some very Parisian things. The water bug bought a candlestick that had the Mona Lisa on it, and since he was quite thirsty, he bought a liquid that said it was flavored with strawberries. They went to their hotel and started to unpack. The water bug was a little bit displeased because there was no fireplace, and then he thought he could make a fire pit of course in the ground in the hotel, but he needed coal. So he asked the person who worked there for some coal. He said, “What do you want it for?” And he said, “For a fire.”

“You can’t make a fire with coal,” the man in the hotel lobby told the water bug. The water bug looked disappointed. “But I’m cold,” he said, and the salamander translated.
“D’accord,” the hotel man responded. “If you give me a moment,” he said in English, “I will look in my cave for something.”
“Cave?” the water bug asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I mean basement.”
“Cave means basement in French,” the salamander explained to the water bug.
They went back to their room, and a little while later the doorbell rang. The hotel manager was there with a little heater just the right size for an insect. It used a battery for power and was quite cozy. The next day the duo headed south and drove all day in their golf cart. By the end of the day they had reached Provence, and they stopped on a hill covered with lavender and watched the sunset behind the Mediterranean. Just then the most unusual thing happened. A hippopotamus wandered by chewing on a leaf.

The salamander took out her camera and started taking pictures. But the hippopotamus stopped abruptly, turned to her, and said, in a rather haughty tone, “You haven’t just taken my photograph, have you?”
“Why, yes,” said the salamander. “You looked so lovely and refined with the sea at your back and the Victorian sun dial behind you.”
“Well,” said the hippo, blushing, “since you put it that way…” And she strolled on down the path still munching on the leaf.
“My dear friend salamander!” exclaimed the water bug, “You do have a gift for words.”
“Some day,” replied the salamander, “I hope to write a book.”
“I should very much like to read it,” said the water bug.
“In the meanwhile,” said the lady salamander, “We should be getting you back. Simply take hold of this magic pine cone, and you will find yourself once again in the pond where you live.”
After saying their good-byes, the water bug grasped the pine cone, and before he could say escargot he was back astride the surface of the pond, guitar on his back and a carrot in his hand.