Farmer Elias walks out to his potato farm. It's a cloudy day, so he only has ten minutes to find the golden potato. His hat flies away in the wind. It lands sixty feet away. He runs to it. He feels this is a good place to find his potato. He begins digging into the dirt. There he finds the golden potato. As he pulls her out of the ground he feels his manhood rising to a frenzy. He was in love with what he saw. As he gazed upon her the clouds parted, the heavens sang. He had found the love of his life. Sadly, because she was a potato and this wasn't Kansas they could not get married. There were laws preventing such things. He wrote up a petition to legalize the marriage of potatoes. He signed his name and went to call his friends. When he came back there was a potato print on the paper. She had become self aware. He knew now more than ever he had to marry this potato. An alarm went off in the house. It was that time of month. Time for the purging of rudeness amidst all Canadians. All of this rudeness, where does it go? This is the question the potato was wondering. As if reading her mind he answered, " We Canadians purge are rudeness onto the Bieber. He used to be in a cell. He wasn't meant to escape. Anyways, that is how we Canadians stay so nice." After this ordeal they went back to the house. It was pouring rain. The golden potato couldn't breath. She woke up. She was still in the ground, for it was only a dream. There had been no handsome farmer, or purging of the rudeness, or profession of love. Then she saw a light and a familiar face. It was the handsome farmer, Elias! He reached for her out of the ground. As he carried her inside she couldn't help but wonder if any of what she had dreamt was real. He carried her into the house. She heard water running. Next thing she knew she was being tossed into water. About fifteen minutes later she was pulled out of the water. She felt a sharp pain in her side. She was being cut into thin slices! All of what was left of her was thrown into the fryer. She felt herself becoming harder, crispy, and salty. She had become a potato chip! You either see yourself die as a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. It was too late for her. The last thing she saw was her loves face as she closed her eyes for the last time.
