Little Mole had been living happily ever before, feeding on the worms of the soil until one day a big rain came that almost suffocated him. He could barely make it up to the surface, but up there it just wasn’t for him. The sun came out, heated up the air, but the soil was still full with water so he could not return to the cool underground. He tried to cross the drive way: it might be dryer on the other side, but he could never make it; he became overheated and died. Fly’s stomach was all empty: he felt he was to die from starvation, when Little dead Mole caught his eyes. Quickly landed on the poor little fellow, filled up his stomach and lived happily ever until eaten by a frog…..etc.
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