Word Count: 134
Cumulative: 364
By the time she arrived at the tent, the judges had already awarded Joy the Blue Ribbon for best organic potato at the county fair. Appointed in a gesture of goodwill, the judges—all of them from the community’s skeleton minority—were absolutely giddy with anticipation about solving the horticultural mystery behind the prize plant.
The luscious green foliage, flawless blue-violet blossoms, and well-shaped berries attracted their attention, but it was the tuber’s balanced starchiness, slightly creamy yet slightly dense texture, and silky smooth skin that stuck in the jurists’ mandibles and earned their highest gastronomic praise.
When asked the question on everyone’s cranium, Joy demurred. “Secret ingredient.” Nobody dead in that tent that afternoon needed to know that she fertilized her prize-winning potato plant with locally sourced bone meal in scandalously large amounts.

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