Make Room 4 Joy: Never a Dull Moment at Arbor Ring Farm, Part 2

Word Count: 162

Cumulative: 526

Joy and the other mature potatoes couldn’t believe their eyes. Hundreds of new potatoes were frolicking skinless and wild between barn and yard, seemingly bruised and blissfully unaware of the consequences of their youthful yet destructive behavior on the farm’s bottom line.

Self-identifying poletons, Arbor Ring Farm’s latest crop of young spuds took the unorthodox mannerisms and outré fashions of local fringe skeleton culture to the extreme, going so far as to disavow their skin-ness and mutilate their flesh in a rebellious move to look less potato- and more skeleton-like. Arbor Ring would be lucky to sell them cooked or fried to pig farms, let alone unprocessed to area food pantries, in their scandalous and unmarketable state.

Inside the barn, in a corner behind a hay bale, Joy discovered an industrial-sized potato rumbler—a wicked piece of equipment long banned in the county—ringed by scores of spent iodine injection syringes. Although not one to point the fingerling, she had her suspicions.