The Potato Peasant

Chapter 1
Once upon a time, there was a peasant hyena. He had light spiky blue fur, with lime speckled spots and a cream underbelly. He lived on a farm, and grew potatoes to sell to the other peasants. He grew so many potatoes that he was known around the entire planet for the potatoes. But, the peasant was not happy. He grew tired of growing potatoes and potatoes, so he sold the potato farm, packed up his favorite things, and left the potato village. He had since learned artisan writing skills by watching videos on the internet, so now it was time for him to journey to the Big City of the Big Castle, and get a high-paying artisan job that he could enjoy more than potatoes.

The Big City of the Big Castle was far away. The peasant would have to travel through the Rolling Hills of Green Delight, then through the Red Wood Forest Where the Wood Isn’t Actually Red, then across the Mighty Blue River that Stinks Like Fish, make his way over the Rockier Mountains, through the Really Hot Desert that’s Hotter Than Most Deserts, and then finally he would have to journey across the Grassland Plains where he could find the Big City of the Big Castle.

It was going to be a very big and tough journey, but the peasant had the courage. He was braver than the other peasants, and knew that his life could be much better if he tried.

The Rolling Hills of Green Delight were certainly delightful! Butterflies flapped around on the breeze, friendly bees gathered nectar and pollen, and little deer skipped around the fields of flowers. One of the butterflies recognized the peasant, and fluttered over to ask him a question.

“Dear Potato Peasant,” said the butterfly. “Is it true that you are really are the grower of the world’s best potatoes?”

“Yes,” said the peasant. “I have grown more potatoes than any other peasant on the planet, but I am tired of that job. I am heading to the city to get a better one, so I can have more money, and no longer be a peasant. Then, people shall call me by my true name Written Oddnote, rather than the Potato Peasant. You will not be getting potatoes from me anytime soon!”

The peasant tromped away, and the butterfly sat on a blade of grass, disappointed.

Next, a friendly bumblebee buzzed up to the peasant’s nose. “Dear peasant,” she said. “May I one day get to try one of your potatoes?”

The peasant began to get angry. “No, my potatoes are a thing of the past!”

He frolicked away from the bee, only to run into a small herd of deer.

“Oh my,” said a buck. “Have you come to sell us potatoes? We will pay fantastic prices, as we hear they are the best potatoes in the land!”

The peasant angrily shook his fist. “I don’t have any potatoes to share! I have sold my farm, and I am going to the Big City, where I won’t get diseases, and I’ll have clean drinking water, and enough money to buy my own Playstation!”

The deer frowned, and then they all trotted away, with their feelings greatly hurt.

== Chapter 2 == The sad peasant left the Rolling Hills of Green Delight, and stepped foot into the Red Wood Forest Where the Wood Isn’t Actually Red. The air became heavy, thunder struck, and then rain started to fall. Now the peasant felt even more dreary than before.

“I will get to the Big City of the Big Castle if it is the last thing I do!” shouted the angry peasant. However, a family of opossums heard him.

“Hello,” said the opossum mother. “It is surprising to see the potato peasant so far away from the potato village! Do you have any potatoes for us? We will return the favor anytime you like!”

“No,” said the peasant. “I do not have any potatoes to share! Tell everyone that the last potatoes I own are for my consumption only, and that no one shall bother me. I am to become a writer, print my books, and sell them to avid readers around the world. I have watched many videos on grammar, punctuation, and spelling, and now I can write any story I please!”

“Okay then, fine,” said the opossum, disappointed. “The news will spread faster than a wildfire! You are not as generous as you used to be, and soon everyone will know.”

The peasant huffed and puffed, and tromped away through the mud.

“Nobody understands that I am no longer a peasant,” he mumbled to himself. “I just want to be respected as an individual, and for people to know me for things other than my potatoes.”

“I am a huge fan of your short stories,” said a voice.

“Who is that? And which stories did you read? Please tell me you didn’t read my fan fictions. They are terrible!” shouted the peasant.

A tall hyena druid leapt from the bushes. He had orange fur with dark orange spots, some kind of dragon-like mask, and a leafy skirt to match his leaf gauntlets.

“Halt!” yelled the druid. “I read all of your fan fictions. So, before you pass, you must tell me what happens to the magical pony from chapter 3 of that one story, please. The magical pony was my favorite, please do not tell me that he perished when the spaceship crashed!”

The peasant stopped and thought. “Fine. The magical pony opened a portal to the cotton candy planet, allowing him to escape the deadly spaceship crash. Now, I may pass.”

“Not good enough!” screamed the druid, as he pushed the peasant back. “That’s such a dues ex machina, and also, the pony’s magic was implied to be disabled near the end of chapter one. If you want to disable abilities for the sake of plot, don’t just randomly enable them too! It only works one way, doofus.”

“I thought writing was all about correct English,” said the peasant. “But you have a point. The stories have to make sense…”

“Indeed,” said the druid. “You have to find a way for the pony to survive! Remember, he is required for the plot twist in chapter 5!”

The peasant was stumped. He hadn’t thought this through— would he have to rewrite the entire story now?

“However,” said the druid. “You may pass on one other condition. That is, if you give me a potato from your satchel, and then said potato happens to be the best potato I have ever had. That, or you can rewrite your entire pony story!”

The peasant was disgusted and furious. Had he been lured into giving away a potato? Well, druids were known for their trickery after all…

The peasant took a potato from his satchel, built a fire, and baked it for the druid.

“Here,” said the peasant. “A baked potato for you.”

The druid bit into the hot, steamy potato, and jumped into the air with joy. It was certainly the best potato he had ever eaten!

“Fine, you may pass!” yelled the druid. “But, please let me follow you! I’ll help grow more potatoes!”

“Don’t you understand?” questioned the peasant. “This satchel is full of the last batch of potatoes I will have in my entire life. I am going to be a writer instead, and I will make so much more money! I will never plant or grow potatoes ever again!”

“Oh, I understand completely! But do you think your stories will bring more or less joy than the potatoes you have been perfecting for twenty years?” asked the druid.

“I don’t know!” snapped the peasant. “I have to get the Big City first to answer that question!”

== Chapter 3 == The peasant and the dragon-masked druid set out towards the Mighty Blue River that Stinks Like Fish.

“We will have to build a raft and go downstream, because the only passable path over the Rockier Mountains is far South,” mumbled the peasant.

He got to work bundling twigs and logs with dry grass, and built a sail from extra old cloth and leaves. He pushed the raft onto the river, and then both he and the druid got on board.

As they drifted down the river, a big bass poked his head from the water to speak to the hyenas. “Hello,” said the fish. “Are you the potato peasant? I hear you will not grow any more potatoes for all eternity, and it is such a shame. Many of my friends are heartbroken that they will never get to try one of your spectacular potatoes in their lifetime…”

The fish dove under the surface, leaving the peasant and the druid alone.

Next, a quiet turtle rose to the surface. “Hello potato peasant. Why do you want to become a writer? No one says your stories are particularly memorable, many have not even read them. But everyone in the land dreams of trying one of your potatoes.”

“Doesn’t anyone understand? My true talent is in my name!”

“Mister Potato Peasant, it certainly is! Please continue to grow potatoes one day,” said the turtle, as he disappeared under the waves.

“My name is Written Oddnote, not potato peasant,” sobbed the peasant. “It is my duty to become a writer and bring joy to all readers in the land…”

The raft came ashore on a beach, near two spiral shaped rocks. Those were the markers of the passable path!

The two hyenas left the raft, and began to trek across the gravel beach, and then up a rocky slope. Soon, they found themselves facing the entrance of a dark cave.

“It looks very scary,” said the druid. “But you are brave, no?”

“I am brave,” said the peasant. “I hope you are too, because our only path forward is through that cave!”

The druid shuddered, but even the slightest chance of more potatoes persuaded him to continue.

== Chapter 4 == The two hyenas tip toed through the dark cavern, avoiding pointy stalagmites, and hoping that a pointier stalactite would not fall from the ceiling and hurt their heads.

Then, they saw a small green light in the distance!

“Hello?” asked the peasant.

“Hello!” came a booming voice. “I am the hyena moss druid of the Rockier Mountain Cave. The light you see ahead of you is the magical glowing mushroom that grows on my head. I hear you no longer serve potatoes, and are now a writer. So, if you can write a lovely story of me becoming the most powerful being in all of the land, perhaps I’ll let you pass.”

The peasant took out a notepad, and began to scribble down a story about the moss druid.

''Once upon a time there lived a very strong and handsome hyena druid made of moss. He was a hyena and he was green and brown with moss growing on his head. Growing on his head was a glowing mushroom that could be seen from far away, and it was a sight to behold. But the moss druid had many secrets, he was very strong, and handsome, and knew the secret to taking over the world and being rich.''

''So, the moss druid defeated every knight in the land, and proved his great power. Since every knight had been defeated, he then decided to take over the great Big City of the Big Castle. He snuck around the great dark streets, and got into the great castle, where he defeated the great king in a great battle and took the great crown for himself, and he and the great princess had a great dance.''

The peasant read his story aloud to the moss druid, who was both impressed and disgusted. “It is so repetitive! And not very realistic, either. How come I was able to sneak in the castle if I had a giant glowing mushroom on my head that could be seen from far away?”

The peasant was unsure.

“Also,” grunted the moss druid. “Where’s the part where I become god and get free potatoes?”

“Free potatoes?” shouted the peasant. “I thought I said that I didn’t serve potatoes anymore!”

“Well, you thought you said that, but it doesn’t matter because you do serve potatoes under specific circumstances!” yelled the dragon-masked druid.

“Oh my!” cried the moss druid. “Please make me a delicious baked potato. Then, I will let you pass, no story required!”

“I already made a potato,” said the peasant. “Because I knew that you would want one because…”

“Because why?” asked both druids.

“Because I am a terrible writer!” screamed the peasant. “I wanted to make fantasies come to life, but I’m so bad at writing, it’s just awful and makes me look like a dummy. The only thing I’m good at is making potatoes and being a peasant.”

“I am sorry,” said the moss druid. “This is the best potato I’ve had in my entire life, though. Please, allow me to follow you on your way to the Big City.”

“I knew you would ask that,” said the peasant, with a smile. “My answer is already yes.”

“Alright!” cheered the deep-voiced moss druid. “Then we shall continue the journey through the caves.”

The two druids and the peasant set out through the caves. The began to step in lots of slime, and all three of them were confused at first.

“I have never seen this before,” said the moss druid. “It smells funny. What is it from?”

The dragon mask druid snickered. “It is likely just geological activity,” he said, smugly.

“Guys, are you dumb?” screamed the peasant. “This is the drool of the giant Giant Drool Monster monster!”

The three hyenas turned to an odd looking rock— which was not a rock at all— but the giant Giant Drool Monster monster! The “rock’s” three eyes opened, revealing bright green pupils. Then, its mouth opened too, revealing big, nasty teeth!

“Oh poop,” said the peasant. “I thought I told you guys to be careful!”

“No you didn’t,” said the dragon-masked druid.

The three hyenas ran for their life! Clambering over stones and rocks, trying to escape the giant Giant Drool Monster monster… The monster is said to cover anyone it meets into so much thick drool, causing that person to become stinky for the rest of their life! Certainly a terrible fate.

Suddenly, the monster had cornered them!

“Halt, monster, the power of my potatoes compels you!” shouted the peasant. He tossed a baked potato to the monster, who ate it delicately and happily.

“Oh wow!” said the giant Giant Drool Monster monster. “Your potatoes truly are amazing. But I thought you said you would never serve them again.”

The peasant sighed. “I didn’t want you to get drool on me…”

“Fair enough,” chuckled the giant Giant Drool Monster monster. “As a token of my appreciation, I will lead you to the exit!”

The three hyenas followed the monster to the exit, and thanked him kindly.

“Goodbye, potato peasant! I hope to see you again sometime soon,” cried the monster.

== Chapter 5 == The group was now in the Really Hot Desert that’s Hotter Than Most Deserts. It was certainly hot. They used some of the fabric and blankets that the peasant took with him to shield themselves from the sun.

“My moss is going to dry out,” cried the moss druid. “And my mushroom, too!”

“My leaves will get all sweaty,” whimpered the dragon-masked druid.

“Oh, quit complaining!” screamed the peasant. “There’s nothing to complain about!”

Just then, the peasant stepped on a cactus!

“OWW!” he yelled. “Okay, maybe you can complain about those…”

He pointed to an entire field of cacti. How were they going to get past it?

The peasant waved and shouted to two hawks circling above.

“Hello, friends. Can you maybe help us?”

The two hawks swooped down, and landed. “Perhaps we can,” said the red-tailed one. “What’s in it for us, huh? Are you going to write a bad story for us? hmm?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Eww! Of course not. We’re thinking more like, money. Or… a potato,” squawked the other hawk.

“Ugh,” said the peasant, as he tossed two potatoes from his sack to the birds.

“Alright, now, you’ll fly all of our supplies and clothes to the other side of the cactus field,” mumbled the peasant.

“What?” stammered the dragon-masked druid. “You… that… that’s crazy! Why don’t we just go around the cacti?”

“No,” said the peasant. “It would take too long! We will have to run through the cactus field with no clothes on to get to the Grassland Plains as quickly as possible.”

“Oh,” said the moss druid. “At least I’m not wearing clothes.”

The hyenas gave all their clothes and supplies to the hawks, who picked it up and began to fly to the other side.

“You know,” boomed the moss druid. “What if they don’t give the stuff back?”

Nobody answered. Instead, they all began to run through the cacti, crying, screaming, and laughing with pain, happiness, and fear. Eventually, they made it to the other side alive! But… the hawks didn’t give the stuff back.

“Silly hyenas, you trusted us!” screeched the hawks, as they flew away. However, they weren’t about to escape yet!

A cactus was thrown into the air by a mysterious vigilante! Going… going.. going… gone….. wait nope, there it is! going… going… and……. Home run! Nah. No home runs, sorry. But the cactus plopped onto the hawk, who fell, then knocked down the other hawk, and the two lost their balance and came plummeting down!

Then hyenas retrieved their torn supplies, as the hawks cried and pulled thorns from themselves.

“Wow!” said the moss druid. “Nice shot! Sick!”

“Calculated,” called a voice.

The hyenas all turned their attention to the silhouette near them. Was it really her…?

“I am the Caped Cactus Crusader,” cried the yellow hyena. She wore a big cactus in her hair, and a glorious cape. The sun was setting directly behind her, and her brilliant costume reflected its light.

“I saw you were in danger,” she said. “But I am always here to help the potato peasant, or anyone in need for that matter. Here, follow me to my village. You can rest and eat good food! Also, put some clothes on first.”

The hyenas put on their clothes and then followed the Caped Cactus Crusader to the village of Succulent. The stucco buildings in the town looked beautiful at night!

“Come inside,” said the Caped Cactus Crusader. “I have much fruit, fish, and even good drinks.”

The hyenas enjoyed a feast of mangos, papayas, baked minnows, and had delicious green salsa and chips, enchiladas with spicy chocolate sauce, and they drank sweet and tangy guava juice and even had fresh coconut milk to drink.

“I like to learn to make foods from all over my country,” said the crusader. “But I have not travelled very far from home. Tell me, potato peasant… May I follow you on your journey to meet new people and learn to cook the unique food they like?”

“Of course!” said the potato peasant.

“And,” replied the crusader. “Will you allow me to… perhaps try one of your potatoes?”

“Here,” said the peasant as he reached for the crusader’s ear. “Look! Here’s one, just for you!”

The peasant pretended to pull a potato from the Caped Cactus Crusader’s ear, then he handed it to her.

“Oh my, it is amazing!” she said, as she enjoyed the potato. “However, it is now time to go to bed. I hope you sleep well. It is a long way to the Grassland Plains…”

Then all hyenas went to bed and prepared for the day ahead!

They woke up early to avoid the searing sun. Together, they marched across the desert, over rocks, over sand dunes, around cacti, and avoided encounters with the dangerous sandworms in the area.

“Look!” shouted the dragon-masked hyena, as he stood on top of a sand dune. “I see the grass, and there, I see the Big City!”

All the hyenas grouped up on the top of the sand dune. “Glorious!” shouted the peasant.

“Fantastic!” screamed the moss druid.

“Splendid!” cried the Caped Cactus Crusader.

Then they began to march into the Grassland Plains!

== Chapter 6 == They found a dirt road that led to the city, and so they followed it. On and on they marched, and their paws hurt badly. But they kept going!

Soon, they came across a pink and purple hyena bard, who was currently dressed in jester’s attire.

“Hello!” said the bard. “You are the potato peasant? You say you are becoming a writer, because you are unhappy?”

“I think so. I’m not that unhappy though, maybe I’d be happier if you called me Mr. Oddnote instead…”

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” said the bard, as she lowered her head. “Mister Oddnote, you may not want to live in the city now.”

“Oh my, why?” asked the peasant.

“There is a huge dragon! He held many secrets, and eventually, snuck into the palace, defeated the king in a great dance battle. By prophecy, he owns the kingdom of the Grasslands!”

The peasant’s group gasped.

“The prophecy once said how to defeat the dragon, however. A knight was supposed to defeat him, but now, the dragon has changed the word knight in the dictionary to mean something that doesn’t exist… So now, we’re all doomed to do grocery shopping and perform memes to the dragon for the rest of eternity!” said the bard.

“That sounds terrible,” growled the dragon-masked druid. “We should put an end to this! The potato peasant has the most powerful potatoes in the land.”

“Hmm. I was having a mighty nice exodus, but now I guess I will follow you and the others to the castle. Maybe I can help… As long as there is the slightest chance of potatoes,” said the bard.

The group marched on and on and on and on, and soon they had reached the city gates. They tromped over the streets and into the palace where they met the huge red and orange dragon, lounging on top of the throne.

“Dragon!” said the peasant.

“My name is Christopher,” whined the dragon.

“Christopher!” shouted the peasant. “I have the best potatoes in the land, so good they have been passed down in legends over the years.”

“I don’t want one,” said Christopher.

The whole room gasped!

“Why?” cried the peasant.

“I feel unhappy. I came to take over the palace because I heard you were becoming a professional writer and moving to the Big City. I am your biggest fan. You inspired me to write stories and un-burninate villages. But now, i hear you are back to giving potatoes, and that you have found happiness and true love.”

“What?” cried the peasant. “Nonsense. I… I totally want to uhh.. still be a writer!”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” said the Caped Cactus Crusader. “You wanted to start a farm, and live with me out in the country, and grow and share potatoes forever. You discovered that your unhappiness stemmed from the lack of friends, not from your potato stems!”

The dragon sobbed. “I have no motivation. I have writers block. You were my only hope to get a good career and now I have to go back to taking over castles and misrepresenting my species!”

Christopher laid his head in his wings and cried.

“Wait!” said the peasant. “I have been traveling for months now. I have many stories of my journey, from the Red Wood Forest Where the Wood Isn’t Actually Red, to the Really Hot Desert that’s Hotter Than Most Deserts! I am not the best writer, even though my ideas may be inspiring. What if you write the story for me, and we publish it together?”

“Really?” said the dragon.

 

“Of course!” said the peasant. “However…”

“What?” asked the crowd.

“You have to try one of my potatoes!” screamed the peasant.

“Alright, fine,” mumbled Christopher, as he ate one of the baked potatoes. “Not bad, not bad at all. Actually, it’ one of the best things I’ve ever had!”

“Well good, because that’s the last potato I had,” said the peasant.

Everyone screamed.

The druids broke down into tears, the crusader wept, and the bard threw her hat into the fire.

“It’s alright, Oddnote! I will still be your friend even without potatoes. After all, you were generous enough to break your selfish promise…” cried the dragon-masked druid.

“And you even wrote a story about me in your best efforts, despite being terrible!” said the moss druid.

“You generously let me join you in the interest of cuisine!” shouted the Caped Cactus Crusader.

“You uhh… you were just kinda nice to me,” said the bard. “The potatoes are nice too by the way.”

Everyone ran in to give Written Oddnote a big hug. However, they noticed a familiar smell…

“Just kidding, I still have potatoes. I was just making sure you guys wouldn’t leave me,” he said.

“PERFECTLY UNDERSTANDABLE!” screamed the dragon-masked druid, with a voice crack so terrible it broke his words like a rubber ball through a window.

There was a cheer, and the people of the Big City of the Big Castle threw Oddnote into the air and gave him a fantastic crowd surf! Christopher promised to never take over the palace again, even though knights don’t exist anymore.

Everyone enjoyed a huge pizza and potato party, and everyone in the land was invited, even the giant Giant Drool Monster monster! Written rebuilt his farm bigger and better with rooms for all of his friends to live in, a big courtyard for the druids to play in, a stage for the bard and others to perform, and even a big kitchen for the crusader to cook in.

'''Christopher took a bow after reading the finished draft out loud to the kingdom. There were cheers from the crowd and a wave of gorgeous red roses and golden treasures were tossed at him. '''

'''Then, Oddnote came from behind the curtains and onto the stage for the finale. After patting Christopher on the shoulder, Mr. Oddnote walked up the the front of the platform with the microphone in paw.'''

At his appearance, baked potatoes of justice began to rain on the crowd from above, and there were screams of joy.

“As your king, I can assuredly say, that they all lived happily ever after!”