Pass them tatars

Once upon a time in a far away kingdom called, Tatar Country lived, a potato named Mr. Potato Head.

Mr. Head was short and lumpy with a very brown tan. He was actually almost black. His dad wasn’t any thing to be proud of. He was an alcoholic, drank way too much vodka. Even with this up, bringing Mr. Head made something of himself. He owned a sour cream and chive factory.

He was now middle age and the right female potato just had never come alone.

His friend, a potato bug was always trying to fix him up. Nothing ever came out of the dates. He was a sour cream and chive man and it seemed as if his dates liked either butter or bacon bites.

Mr. Head wouldn’t admit it but he really like a feminist potato that didn’t feel the need to wear any thing. A potato that was comfortable with her own self-being. After all the years, he had lived in Tatar Country he had yet to meet this dream potato.

Then one day he was waiting for the light to change at an intersection. That is when it happened. A potato goddess suddenly was standing by him. He had all twelve of his eyes on her.

She turned and looked at him. “Just what are you staring at jerk?”

I am sorry I have never seen a potato with yams like you got. No that isn’t what I meant to say. I meant your complexion is a glow in orange. Oh, I don’t know what I meant to say. Forgive me, please.”

Just then, the light changed and she and the potato beside her started to cross the street. Out of nowhere, a bus flew down the street running a stop light. Mr. Head reached out and grabbed the potato of his dreams just in time. Unfortunately, it was too late for the other pedestrian.

The bus had run over the potato, mashing him flat turning him into a mashed potato of course.

The young slender female potato realizing how close she had become to being sweet potato pie began to hug and cry on Mr. Head’s shoulder. A romance had begun at the most unlikely place. After answering several questions for the potato police the couple was allowed to leave. The now dead potato was scrapped off the street and placed in a box labeled potato pancake mix.

Over a cup of coffee, the two began to share. It seems as if Miss Creamy Potato was once in a sweet potato casserole commercial. Her mother was actually the sweet potato queen of Tatar Country.

He opened up also, telling her of his fears of becoming old, and being made into hash browns. They both had family members kidnapped by the tatar mafia and made into French fries. It seems as if the life of a potato is a dangerous one.

After several months of dating, they decide they wanted to marry. A potato soup date was selected. They would spend their honeymoon in Ireland and then when they got back, Head would move his factory to Idaho and they would start raising tots.

Mr. Head spent the last three days as a bachelor preparing for his wedding. He had his head cut and layered in the latest fashion of chips. He set in the microwave five minutes at the time getting his skin as soft as possible. He might have had some years on his new bride but for the most part, he was still full of starch.

Creamy spent her days at the spa being brushed and rubbed with fine oil. She glistened when she walked. She also exercised those yams that Head like so much. She wanted to be beautiful for him on their big day.

Head told a friend that he may not be a young spud any more but he was potato enough to take care of his new love.

An hour before the service, Tatar Country suddenly lit up. A huge hand came down out of the heavens and voice like thunder was heard.

“Yelp, I thought there was one more in here. Just what I needed for my potato salad. Now where is that sweet potato? My ole man thinks he has to have one every time we have peas and corn bread for supper.”

Even in Tatar World, things do not always go as planned.

 The next time you think you are having a bad day just think about these two. Romeo and Juliet couldn’t have had a sadder ending.


Explore posts in the same categories: June 09, ramdom thoughts, stories

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