Tom looked over the potato, carefully. "Hmm." This potato was unlike any other Tom had ever prepared to cook. It spoke Queen's English and said, "Don't chop me up!" Tom did not know what to say. Then, the potato spoke again ! The potato said, "Don't eat me, you'll Ruffles my wife's feathers. Besides I'm small potatoes, a small fry. Let's be spuds, I'll always keep an eye on things, I'm think skinned. Think of the tater tots. Would somebody for once think of the tater tots! Moving from one frying pan to another always wondering if the next one will be their last. Then one day they wake up wrapped around a crumbling jalapeƱo bit smothered in cheese product in some border town roadside taco truck being passed off as local cuisine to wayward tourists down town in new Orleans where the jalapenos are hot but the literal tourist trap all you can eat Cajun sauce is hotter than anyone pictured could be possible for a liquid outside of the fiery sun. Picking up the random words from the radio in someone's open window, it sounded like an ad for fiery jalapenos, or possibly an ad for a tourist trap in New Orleans. Across the way, an old woman was selling marijuana nosegays. It was all so...quaint! And look! A donkey wearing a hat! Enchanting! I was sweating now like a big ol hairy dog. And by that I mean that I wasn't sweating, but was panting like a big ol' hairy dog. A veritable river of saliva flowed from my tongue, and from it salmon leapt skyward. I imagined the storms of salmon spawnlings to come, but for now I just needed about four gallons of water and maybe some salmon treats. Some indescribable being laid one on my tongue.



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