Crabby and the Mango Ice Cream
Crabby was not your average crab. For one thing he was made entirely of bright red Lego plastic. For another, he lived not in the ocean, but in a little crevice on the Lego Friends Beach Club of his human, Sofia Kontorinis. He had two claws, eight little legs, and absolutely no adventures to his name.
This is unacceptable, thought Crabby, watching the Lego world go by. So, on a day like any other, Crabby made a decision. He would go on an adventure. He did not know what an adventure was, exactly. But he was fairly sure it involved leaving the rock, and he was very sure it involved not asking anyone's permission first.
Small steps, he told himself, and took one. Then another. Eight little Lego legs is not a fast way to travel, but it is, Crabby discovered, a very determined one.
The path across the Beach Club Lego was longer than it looked. He passed the sun lounge, where a Lego lady in sunglasses lay relaxing. He passed a little palm tree, whose single frond he inspected closely in case it was hiding something interesting. It was not.
And then, at last, he arrived at the ice cream stall. It was, without any exaggeration, the greatest thing Crabby had ever seen. Rows of little plastic scoops sat lined up along the counter — pink, white, brown, and there, right at the end, a bright, glorious orange.
Mango, thought Crabby, and something in his small plastic chest ached with longing. I do not know what mango is. I only know that I require it immediately.
There was, of course, a small problem. The mango ice cream belonged to the stall. The stall belonged to the ice cream Lego man, who stood behind the counter with his cheerful smile.
Undeterred, Crabby crept up onto the counter, quickly clamped one claw firmly around the mango scoop, and pulled. It came free with a small, satisfying click.
For one glorious second, Crabby stood there holding it, triumphant, a mango ice cream almost as big as his entire body raised over his head like a trophy.
Then suddenly he heard the ice cream man's voice, shouting "catch that crab! It's stolen my icecream!" Oh no, thought Crabby, RUN!
And so began Crabby's first great chase.
He half-scuttled, half-toppled off the counter, with the mango ice cream still clutched tight in one claw. He bolted straight past the surfboard, under the sun lounge and directly into the shade of the palm tree, where he pressed himself flat against the little plastic trunk and did not breathe.
The ice cream man came running close behind. He was shouting angrily at the crab but lost sight of Crabby during the chase. Exhausted, Crabby did not move for a very long time. He was still holding the ice cream. He took a bite and decided that it was possibly the best thing that had ever tasted.
Crabby did not go back to his usual spot at the Beach Club that day. He found a new one — just behind the ice cream stall near the toilet. Here he could keep half an eye on the counter, just in case an opportunity presented itself again.
It was the first adventure of many. Crabby had absolutely no idea just how far his little legs were about to carry him.
The End