Anyways, I am still working steadily on that fic. Currently, the first chapter is split into three mini-chapters: The first is for introduction, the second for characterization, & the third for kicking off the main plot. The first is technically done, but it's still in revision phase. Here's the first few paragraphs of that.
The timing couldn’t be better, surprising considering how early they had started. There was an entire season to go before the competition. Many of the crowd-winning vegetables were so young in their infancy that replacing them wasn't much of a burden, so what was with all the rush? That's what Gromit questioned. Why all this rush to set up the alarm systems and traps when what was being protected wasn't worth…well, protecting?
That all stopped a few days ago when West Wallaby bore witness to the biggest storm in its history. Over 100 mm of rain. 100 km/h winds. Raging on for three days straight. Needless to say, the vegetables didn't survive. They were completely uprooted and washed away into the streets, exposed for all to see—and weep. The greenhouse plants weren't spared either. Flying debris left severe cracks in the structures, ruining the deliberate conditions inside.
Worse of all, the storm made the soil too oversaturated to try again. Everyone's progress got wiped and they absolutely couldn’t restart until it dried up, which could easily take days. Completely disastrous for the vegetable competition; Some of the best crops were only ready the week of. A delay had to happen lest the organisers wanted an angry mob on their hands.
But those issues could wait. Something else needed immediate attention. The destruction that discouraged humans thrilled the rabbits, who were gearing up for the biggest feast of their lives. The pesky things were so distracted by the buffet waiting for them that they had little care about their usual worries. Worries like survival, predators, and most importantly, pest control. Knowing that, Wallace decided that it was finally time to start up their “midnight services”. Just like the rabbits, he was going to make the most out of this occasion.
Leaves fluttered as it passed. Scattered vegetables crushed under its tires. Lights switched on as curious onlookers tried to catch a glimpse. Its white HOP-2-It licence plate glistened in the moonlight, so did its brand-new blue and yellow paint job. Barrelling down the streets was the Austin A35.
Wallace chuckled giddily as he drove. “Thirty-two rabbits caught in one night, that might be a new record for us lad!” His free hand caressed Gromit, who sluggishly nodded in his lap. The van’s soft rattle soon lured him back to sleep. “Don't worry, this is the last house for the night. You'll be back to that warm bed of yours soon.”
Gromit was usually the most proactive of the two. Sniffing out rabbits was his thing, and so was cornering them. However, he spent all his energy cleaning his ruined garden, so it was up to Wallace to handle everything tonight.
Quiet tapping noises emerged from the back. Attached was one of his proudest inventions: The Bun-Vac 6000. Trapped inside were the rabbits he'd caught. All thirty-two of them, thumping their paws on the hard metal floor. A display of bitterness Wallace found adorable. Looking at them made him quite proud. After all, his intuition had been right for once.
The house was further up the road. It looked just like the rest: paved with red bricks, covered by a bluish gray roof, and isolated by a green and white, wood-brick hybrid fence. Wallace shifted Gromit back to his seat. The pest grasper had an inconspicuous red button next to where his hand rested. “I'll be quick.”
A few rain clouds remained long after the showers. Wallace carefully hopped over the gate, dampening the sound of his fall. Mud stuck to his boots as he walked. During this shift, he came across many devastated gardens that evoked sympathy. Ms. Lovitt's garden was no different. He somewhat knew her. She was possibly the best gardener (who wasn't a dog) the town had to offer. People often paid her to turn their gardens around, and you could tell they did because her style was so distinct. He always questioned the legality, but no one has been disqualified for it yet.
Anyhow, about the rake lodged in her shed: Removing it revealed that so much water had seeped inside that mold was guaranteed to take over. Pumpkin sprouts lay sprawled all over the grass, their seeds still intact. One adult pumpkin remained, but its edges looked fuzzy, so it was probably a loss.
He scanned the rake, the shed, the sprouts, again and again for what felt like hours. Each go revealed nothing. The rabbit here must’ve been clever and ran off as soon as they heard the van pulling up. If that happened, then he had to go. Every minute he stayed could’ve gone to searching other houses. Plus, it was no use waiting for a gon-
The fuzzy pumpkin! Thinking of it, didn't it look kind of… brown? He spun to the spot again. Gone. How'd he miss that? He was ready to beat himself up when a movement near the house caught his eye. Wallace turned—and nearly jumped out of his trousers...
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