[ WP ] You talk to potatoes . Sometimes , they talk back .

*Spud: the lesser known germination of sentient being mass produced for human consumption. * 
 
 Out in the farmer's fields, lies a rather advanced civilization of sentient potatoes. Hand-picked and driven by the farmer's son, this rather outlandish outcrop of brown and yellow beings have lived a sheltered life with their brothers and sisters. Ask the local corn if they ever have spoken to a potato from this field; thier answer would be an abrupt no, followed swiftly by a snappy slap across the face with their stalk, with musings of *you should mind your own business* and *stir up a frying pan, kick-start a fire. * 
 
 Superstitious idiots. You'd have them as popcorn for such a silly remark. 
 
 Funny thing is, you do n't really understand why the corn is so superstitious of you speaking to a potato. No one ever heard one speak little more than a grunt or a muffled squeak, and besides from the occasional head-sized lump of mush, they are rather timid-looking. Silly corn - do n't understand the meaning of the word business let alone on how to mind it. 
 
 Alas, you take their schooling to your breast, and begin your work digging up the city of soon-to-be-potato chips like a regular invader. You're mindful of the dirt; cheeky bastard enjoys your touch, giggling and splitting everywhere in excitement as you claw your way through its body. Disgusting. Your first sentient potato is named Steve. 
 
 Steve is a rather fat, old enough to stew in a crock pot kind of potato. Say hello Steve. 
 
... Oh that's right - Steve is a mute, so there will be no pleasantries from Steve. Never mind Steve; we still think you're worthy of a decent fry up. Steve happily jumps into your little bucket, rolling around as if he was mentally challenged. Maybe he is? Whom are we to judge? Do n't mind his playful antics. 
 
 You move up to the next house, and notice dirt has already had a party. We're you invited? Of course not. It's obvious dirt is a player - a taker. He would n't invite his own mother to her funeral. Best mind dirt's mess this time whilst you dig up Charlotte. 
 
 Hello Charlotte! 
 
 *Hi. * 
 
 Ah - Charlotte is a shy one. Or should I say nervous wreck? One can only assume it's a temporary phase, because she seemed to warm up to dirt enough to invite him over for tea. Maybe she is another victim of dirt's charms? Maybe she did n't take dirt's empty affections so well? 
 
 You ca n't help her. You only know she will be okay with Steve. Steve is a nice lad. Say hello to Charlotte Steve. 
 
 Oh... I forgot - Sorry Steve. 
 
 *Hi Steve. * 
 
 Good girl. Let's leave them to it. Who's next?
