No! For the last time, we are OUT of Rejujumix. All refills must be... refilled only at other authorized Flaveur Saveur outlets or on the Flaveur Saveur website. Due to the property damage and fear for my own well-being I am closing our tent in the student market and leaving for an undisclosed location which is definitely NOT my mom’s house in town.

It’s true that Flaveur Saveur GMO vegetable dolls can get a bit ugly, and unruly, without proper dosages of Rejujumix. However please note that all guarantees of safe and polite behavior of Flaveur Saveur GMO vegetable dolls are null and void if Flaveur Saveur GMO vegetable dolls have not received their recommended daily allowance of Rejujumix for 48 hours.

Use only as directed!*









*Flaveur Saveur is not responsible for bites, chafing, infection, broken bones, stabbed eyes, or any other symptoms related to insufficient levels of Rejujumix in Flaveur Saveur GMO vegetable dolls. Flaveur Saveur Security Teams are not responsible for Flaveur Saveur GMO vegetable dolls that have not received sufficient levels of Rejujumix within the required time period.

DEEP INSIDE THE BUNNY HOUSE -- CHAPTER THREE

"It's got my leg it's got my leg gemme out gemme out hallllllllllllllllllllp!!!!'

Young Jimmy Apples' leg was sunk in a hole in the soft vegetable floor of the cavern.

"Quick! It's warm and mushy and it's going to eat my leg right off! Hurry!"

Y-971 knelt down to examine the hole Young Jimmy Apples was stuck in.

"There are what appear to be flat teeth, but they are not--"

Suddenly Young Jimmy Apples was flung up into the air.

The hole sputtered, and from behind came an ear-splitting croak.

"SNNXXXXXXXXXXXXXXKKK. SNNXXXXXXXXXXXXXXKKK."

Great vents, or blowholes--a pair of them extruding from the vegetable surface.

"Stay away from that hole," I ordered the team. "And watch your step. Walk this way."

"Dá bhféadfainn siúl ar an mbealach sin, ní bheadh ​​an cána draíochta seo de dhíth orm," muttered Fecund Bogsoil.

"Now careful, don't step, but look."

The soft undulations of the squishy green floor had seemed random, but, when looked at as a whole... there were great sleepy eyelids made of leaves, with parsley eyebrows and eyelashes; gourd-like protuberances dotted with nostrils poking up here and there; soft bog holes of grassy lips and slimy green tongues.

There was a giant, mutated face in the vegetable floor. The distorted vegetable face of @Herbert Albert. And it was snoring.

"Ní dhéanann sé ach aisling na nglasraí a aisling, a dhéanann sé," Fecund Bogsoil said ominously.

G.B.

DEEP INSIDE THE BUNNY HOUSE -- CHAPTER FOUR

We lost track of time crossing the Vegetable Sea. Young Jimmy Apples had discovered a beautiful pea-green boat on the soggy shore, just big enough for the four of us. Y-971 maintained a steady pace, oars splashing in the cucumber water like a motor boat.

"Téann na tuar aislingí i dteagmháil le cladaí i bhfad ó bhaile," Fecund Bogsoil mused from the back of the boat.

Our food supplies from the Psyhigh Student Craft Market dwindled to a few slices of quince, which we ate with a runcible spoon. The cucumber water was satisfying, not to mention anti-inflammatory, but soon it would be time to gather more sustenance, on the far side of the shore.

"There!" cried Young Jimmy Apples from the bow. "Land ho! Vegetable land!"

G.B.

DEEP INSIDE THE BUNNY HOUSE -- CHAPTER FIVE

“It was just one puny carrot!” whined Young Jimmy Apples. “I seen baby carrots outuva bag bigger than that shrimp.”

“These viny bonds,” whispered Y-971, “while resilient, could be sliced through quite easily in my diamond form. Shall I assume it?”

“Not yet, Y-971. I’ll let you know.”

The Vegetable People did not take kindly to our gleaning of their fertile land. Perfect rows of carrots and cucumbers, tomatoes and beets, stretched as far as the eye could see under the green twilight. Famished from our travels, Young Jimmy Apples snatched at the first thing he laid eyes on. Frankly we weren’t prepared for the coordinated response—the rows and rows of produce seemingly ripe for the picking were in actuality breeding grounds for a massive army. Ranks of carrot soldiers with tousled green hair pulled themselves from the earth and shook off their clods. Cucumbers rose above their beds, dangling like pickles in the air and wearing mad grins. Tomatoes waved their acid bomb arms while the beets showed their needle teeth and hissed.

We were quickly overwhelmed, trussed like deer and hung from poles, and brought before their king. He presided over a bubbling well of black and green ooze.

"Aaayeeeeeee! Gan filleadh ar an móin arís! Ní féidir liom!!!" Fecund Bogsoil cried.

The king was a wizened old cabbage the size of a truck. His leathery leaves rustled as he turned to face us, and as he did, the giant, puffy vegan features of @Herbert Albert looked upon us once again.

“WHO DARES DEFILE MY VEGETABLE KINGDOM!!!"


G.B.

DEEP INSIDE THE BUNNY HOUSE -- THE FINAL CHAPTER

“That was the best salad I ever et!”

Young Jimmy Apples pushed the giant wooden bowl away and burped.

"Fan go dtí go músclóidh spiorad an duine sin thú! Tá tú díreach tar éis spiorad a chur ort. B'fhearr duit a bheith ullamh nuair a dhúisíonn sé!"

Fecund Bogsoil looked at another forkful, then chomped it down.

After our epic quest through these caverns of unspeakable vegetative horror, it was a feast well deserved. The malign cellulose monstrosity that had absorbed the consciousness of @Herbert Albert had been defeated. Y-971's julienne mode made quick work of the Cabbage King and his army, and our famished party was more than ready to apply the coup de grâce to its remnants.  

"I suggest we leave the catacombs the way we came," said Y-971 between bites. "I could bore through to the surface directly from here, but we should not create more entries into this pocket of botanical proto-consciousness."

Y-971 was right. We needed to make sure no other unsuspecting visitors fell prey to this dreaming mass of vegetation, like a venus fly trap just below the surface of the earth, waiting to swallow the soul of another unsuspecting visitor. 

"We'll retrace our path and seal up the entrance. Maybe move the dumpsters around to cover it. It's too dangerous to allow anyone near. Some yellow caution tape should do it."

One more night in this highly oxygenated green gloom, then it's back across the Cucumber Sea, through the Nostril Plains, and up the Central Shaft.

Suddenly those Pringles @Herbert Albert left near the front door are sounding mighty good.

Yours sincerely,

G.B.