StarlightSword

 There's nothing strange about a talking carrot. Certainly not. Or, for that matter, any other kind of root vegetable with the capacity for speech. In fact, not only are they able to speak, but they are pretty loquacious. Anybody lucky enough to have had a lengthy conversation with one of these orange delights will tell you that carrots understand a great deal of the world, and their perspective is very valuable. If planet Earth was run by rutabagas and beets, we would already have achieved peace. No vegetable has ever wanted to hurt anyone, with the possible exception of the occasionally malicious cauliflower. But, if you recall, I was only

God weeps for the damnéd and the dead We are dancing in the ashes, still We'll meet you where the rain fears to tread Days we consider what has been said Nights we bathe in the ink of the quill God weeps for the damnéd and the dead Thunderclaps precipitate our dread The lightning attacks the nearby hill We'll meet you where the rain fears to tread With the hostile sky and clouds we pled Their corrosive contents not to spill God weeps for the damnéd and the dead The heavens wept and the mountains bled The universe put forth its ill will We'll meet you where the rain fears to tread The countryside is lit up with r

Back in the days when my arms worked as they properly should, I would introduce myself with a simple handshake, tout court. Nothing more or less, and certainly no complicated secret nonsense. Now, unfortunately, I am limited to a curt nod or the dreaded words of introduction. I have never been particularly fond of speaking, you see. Some say actions speak louder than words. Nobody believes that more than I do. But this is a story about the old days, and not filled with the depressing fluff of the present. So, let us get on with it. "Ah, so you are Mister Fleming! I have been simply dying to meet you." I hated hyperbole like that. There was