Answer:
I am a mountain at night meadow at day
I run around the streets all day. Under the bed or by the door I sit at night, never alone. My tongue hangs out, waiting to be fed during the day. What am I?
Sometimes dark and sometimes bright I make my way among twinkling lights. Seas and oceans obey my call yet mountains I cannot move at all. My face is marred and gray But I'm majestic anyway
I am a vegetable that bugs stay away from
With pointed fangs I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. What am I?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?