Part I: Calm Before the Storm.
In the middle of a small town in Ireland, in 1851, there was a very bad potato famine. The whole country had been dealing with this blight that rendered the potatoes inedible for a few years. Starvation was around every block and anyone who risked eating a potato fell ill. Ireland, at that time, was in a period of panic and fear with the people wondering if the famine would ever see an end. Yet, even through a crisis like this, life still would go on as townsfolk tried to make the most by selling other foods and celebrating the holidays as always.
Halloween, or Samhain, was no different, aside from the the scariest thing being not ghost or ghoul but potatoes. Unknown the the town, this Halloween would prove to have the scariest potato they had seen yet.
Charles woke to the sounds of rain pattering against his window. He rolled out of bed and got ready for work.
“Charles, do you think this famine will ever end?” His wife wearily asked.
“I don’t know, dear. It’s a miracle that you, the children, and I are still standing.”
“I’ve seen this town go from a thriving neighborhood to a ghost of its former self. But, maybe, just maybe this famine is nearing a end. Then, we can go back to not fearing potatoes.” His wife spun around with a strained smile. “Hey, seeing how tonight is Halloween, do you want to go with me and the kids to the festival?”
“If I get the time,then yes. Tonight’ll be a very busy night for me, but I’ll try to make it.” Charles promised her as he finished buckling his shoes.
“Okay. Stay safe today and try to not get sick. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Now, I gotta go.” Charles hugged and bid his wife farewell before making his way to his food stand. Being one of the few stands left, Charles had the tricky task of providing food for the whole village while making a profit for his family. One of his friends was already waiting for him as he arrived.
“Morning, Charles! It’s looking like a very busy day for you." The man wore a toothy grin, leaning against the stand as if it was his.
"Good morning, William. Yeah, I guess everyone is trying to get ready for tonight." Charles paid William no mind as he displayed his pitiful selection of vegetables.
“Boy, it sure is a wet one today, huh?” William lifted his arm only for a moment before leaning back on the turnip Charles had just placed on the display.
"Yeah. It’s a good thing I have this tarp to keep me dry.” Charles did a double take before yanking the turnip from under his friend’s elbow.
“Tell me about it.” William, having caught himself when his leaning post was moved and decided to lean farther over the display, and Charles’ vegetables, in effort to keep more of the rain off of himself. “On the bright side, I think we might be nearing the end of this potato famine.” The man’s grin widened.
“Yeah, I hope so.” Both Charles’ tone and expression were exasperated.
"Now, what are you fellas talking about?" An elderly woman in a black robe asked from beside William, causing the other to jump and send a few of Charles’ carefully stacked turnips flying.
"Oh, nothing much, Bertha, just business and this potato crisis.” Charles sighed as he re-stacked his turnips.
"Ooh, really? You know, I've heard of a rumor going around that there’s some kind of green potato that comes out at night. So, best not be out when the sun’s not, or else there will be trouble to pay." She snickered and rolled a wayward turnip over to Charles.
Charles brushed Bertha’s warning off with a wave of his hand. "What kind of hogwash is that? A green potato? I know the potatoes are bad,” he raised an eyebrow at the elderly woman, “but come on. And walking around at night? What's next? They going to start fighting in battles? Please."
Bertha gave Charles a hard stare with one crooked finger outstretched toward him. "Alright then. Suit yourself, but when that green potato comes for you, don't say I didn’t warn ya.”
"What’s her problem?" William pointed in the direction of Bertha as she hobbled down the cobbled path, cane in hand.
"She lost her damn mind years ago, that’s her problem. Anyway, I have a very long day of work ahead of me. See you later William.” Charles stacked carrots high in William’s now empty post before the other man could return to leaning.
"You too, Charles. You going to the Halloween festival tonight?"
"If I finish up here early enough." He nodded, directing his attention to a customer as William headed for shelter elsewhere.
Later that evening, the rain had came to an end as Charles was near ready to call it a day. The streets were quiet; everyone likely preparing for the festival. "I’m exhausted. I guess I should close things up and get ready, too.." He murmured as he set to work closing his stall for the evening.
A small figure coming up the road caught his attention. He leaned in for a closer look and saw green skin. Bertha’s warning replayed in his head as his eyes widened. "It's… the green potato… I thought it was just a tale. I gotta warn the village!"
Part II: taken matter into our own hands
Charles makes a run for the village, screaming about a green potato and drawing the other villagers out of their homes to see what is going on.
"Honey, what’s the matter?" Charles's wife asked.
“It's a green potato. He's on the loose!" The townspeople erupted in shock and horror at Charles’ words. Everyone except for Bertha.
“Ah-ha! I told everyone. The green potato is real and now it's here for all of us." The older woman was smug in her righteousness.
"Okay, then, old wise one, tell us: how do we stop stop this foul beast?" One of the villagers asked.
"Well, it's simple. We just kill the potato!" Bertha laughed as if her suggestion was not only obvious, but simple.
William chimed in next, sounding exasperated with Bertha. "And how are we going to do that, if I may ask?"
Bertha stumbled at William’s question. “Um… Well… I would … Well, what’s your plan?”
“I don’t know and it sounds like you don’t have an idea either.” William’s retort escalated into Bertha and William throwing insults at one another until the town sheriff showed up.
"Alright, now what’s all the noise about?"
"Sorry to wake you up, sir,” Charles apologized before explaining, “but there’s some kind of monster that’s up to no good in this part of town-"
"It’s a green potato! A green potato!" Bertha cut Charles off, with fear in her voice.
The sheriff took a moment to reflect on the task at hand and how he could quell the anxious group before it unraveled further. “Well, if there’s a monster scaring the poor people of this town, then I’ll send my group and we’ll put in end to this problem once and for all. In the meantime, everyone stay calm."
A couple of hours went by with no response from the police the green potato. People were starting to get worried. It was the dead of the night during the time when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest, and a monster was still on the loose. Bertha looked around and a smile grew on her face, sensing an opportunity. The old woman hobbled her way to the middle of the crowd and started to shout: "Everyone! Men and women! Are we just going to sit here and wait for the police to find this green potato? Are we going to become an easy target for this beast?” As murmurs raised from the crowd, Bertha was perfectly pleased with herself. “What if there is more than one of them? Are we going to let us, and are loved ones, get hurt, or worse wind up dead? If the answer is no, then it's time to fight! Grab your weapons. Pitchforks, fire, hammers, it doesn’t matter. Grab them with some torches and follow me."
The villagers, inspired and rallied by her message, set out to collecting weapons and torches before meeting back in the middle of town. Charles's wife tried to calm down the village and stop the uproar, assuring everyone the police have it under control. The others were running on fear and would not listen to reason. A few turned their weapons on her, telling "If you keep this talk coming up we will see you as a traitor."
Charles ran to his wife. “Hey now, I got this people. Keep your shirts on.” Once the weapons lowered, he turned to his wife. “Dear, maybe she has a point? I mean, we don’t know what this potato is going to do. So, we need everyone in this.” He grabs a spare pitchfork and holds it out to her. “Are you in?”
Charles’s wife realized she was out numbered and reluctantly took the pitchfork. Bertha smiled. "That's the spirit. Now, let's go mash a potato!"
Part III: Raid night.
"Charles, what direction did it go in?" William asked. The group had been on the hunt for the elusive green potato for some time. Every turn around every corner that turned up empty only fueled the group’s paranoia and frustration.
As they walked by Charles' stand, he remembered. "He went left of the stand. Follow me."
Following along Charles’ path proved fruitful. The group caught sight of the small figure, clad in a black robe and digging through his bag. The chaos dam was broken as everyone charged at him, screaming commands to seize him and ensure he doesn’t get away. The unsuspecting potato looked behind him and ran from the villagers, dodging all kinds of attacks. Pitchforks, axes, and even a few hammers swung at him. The little potato also had to sidestep to avoid getting stomped.
The townsfolk were closing in, their stomps through the wet grass and splashing of water puddles loud in his ears. The path to the castle was almost within his reach. He glanced back to see one of the villagers right on his tail was raising their axe for another swing. With his heart in his throat, he pushed his legs as fast as they would go and dove for the gate. The tuber rolled into the high grass as the crowd ran past him, having lost sight of him.
"Where did he go?" William yelled out.
"I don't know. He could be anywhere in that castle!" Charles's yelled out.
The sound of a metal door opening rang out along with high-pitched voice calling, "Hash, over here. Quickly!" The villagers looked to find the potato jumping into a bunker.
"He's getting away! After him." Bertha cried out. Everyone ran to the door, only for it slam shut before they could catch him. The villagers tried to pry it open, but with no luck. They tried the doors and windows as well, only to discover everything was locked. The villagers started hitting the door with their pitchforks and some even used others as battering rams. All with nothing to show for it.
Bertha had enough of those charades and shoved her way to the front of the crowd. "For goodness sake! You bunch worthless bums couldn’t fight your way though a wet paper bag!" She busted a window with her cane and yanked the nearest torch from one of the townsfolk. “I’ll take matters into my own hands.” She tossed it through the window and set the castle ablaze.
"Woman, have you lost your mind?" Charles pushed through the fleeing villagers and watched as the flames grew.
"Yeah, what about the castle?” William asked.
"To hell with the castle. That potato is burning as we speak and the town can finally rest now that the evil has been defeated." Bertha’s smiled widened as the flames spread.
“I get the green potato has everyone scared, nut that doesn’t mean you can do property damage.” Charles looked around for any water source.
“You think I will stop at castle? I will burn every inch of this village down to the ground if I have to. As long as that means that no green potatoes, or any other evildoers in this world.” Bertha said with an sinister laugh.
At that admission, the remaining townspeople started to turn on Bertha. A few didn’t for fear of losing their house. An argument broke out all the same, only stopping when horses arrived carrying the sheriff, "Hold it right there. Everyone, hands up where we can see them.”
The villagers drop their weapons and walk to the horse buggies. Everyone at the scene, including Charles and his wife, were arrested. Charles watched the castle fall apart as it disappeared out of sight. After the coast was clear, the trap door opened up and three potatoes jumped out. Together, they watched what remained of their home burn.
Part IV: Lock the Door
Back at the castle, Crinkle kept watch for Hash from his favorite stool. At the first light in the distance, he got excited, thinking Hash was home and seemed to have friends with him. As the light grew closer, the poor potato quickly realized it was an angry mob and not the friends he thought they would be. Crinkle ran to find Spudstein, to warn the other, leaving a trail of drool.
"Angry mob? Alright, let's get things boarded up and go to the bunker." Spudstein nodded, with a strained look at the news. He hoped Hash would make it in time. The pair set to boarding and locking everything up, waiting in silence that stretched too long for any signs of their friend. The earth started to rumble as the group closed in and Spudstein poked his head out to see.
“It’s Hash! He’s here.” The little, red potato called out to his assistant and pal. He hurriedly waved the other over where they all listened to the chaos above ground. No one dared to emerge until everything had stilled and not a peep was heard. Spudstein was the first to leave, and the first to see that state of his home. "Aw, man not again. I just had this castle repaired from the last raid. Oh well, guess we’ll have to build again."
The scientist looked over to his friends to see Crinkle had disappeared into the wood line, with a drool trail as the only tell. The misshapen potato returned just a moment later, swinging a slightly damp map in the air. “Find a new location? Did you have anywhere in mind?" Spudstein looked over as his tallest friend opened the map and pointed to England. He scratched his dimpled chin as he thought. “Hmm. I don’t know about England. I think it might be time for different part of the world.”
The green potato, Hash, walked up, and offered a suggestion after studying the map for a moment. “What about New York?”
"You know what...sure, why not. It's not like there are angry villagers there. Let’s roll out, boys.” The three made their way to the nearest port and set sail for a new home.
Part V: Behind Bars.
After the police escorted everyone in to their cells, the sheriff stepped in. "Alright, you all stay there while we look through the damage." He couldn’t even turn around before Bertha started screaming to be released and everyone there should be lauded as heroes, rewarded with medals.
Charles sat in his cell thinking about what him and other villagers did to the castle. His wife was across the room, mad.
"So, was it all worth it?" Her tone was stern.
"You were right. We should have just waited for the police to do their job. Now, instead of bobbing for apples or carving pumpkins, we’re all in jail on Halloween. And, some of us might not get out of this. At least, not with out doing some time. I just hope we can get off with a small payment.” Charles sighed, resting his face in his hands at the thought.
"We’ll just have to wait then. Maybe we all should be locked away." With those final words, silence fell over the cell. Until William started to play the harmonica, and then the peace was interrupted. It was a couple of hours until the sheriff walked back in, obviously ready to make a big announcement based on the look in his eyes.
“Listen up; one of you started the circus and we’re willing to make a deal. If you tell us who did it, then the rest of you will only spend the week here. However, the person behind this will be taken to prison where we keep the baddest of the bad."
The villagers looked around to see you who should take the heat. Bertha, realizing this, frantically scanned for her scapegoat. The older woman jumped with an unexpected speed as she pointed him out. "It was him! Charles Hill! He order all of us to destroy that castle. Arrest him."
Charles was gobsmacked, immediately standing and on the defensive. "What! No, it's her! That witch was the one who told to us to start the raid and get the potato. And, she was the one that set the castle on fire."
The cells were divided, some siding with Charles and others backing up Bertha’s story. A few even threw out entirely different names, hoping to settle old beefs. The sheriff, tired of the chaos silenced everyone. He pointed out William as the tie breaker, "Well, Mr. Armstrong, who did it? Charles or Bertha?"
William didn’t hesitate to point to the crone in black. "It was her! Charles is right. She threw a torch into the castle, she didn’t care about the fire. She even said she would burn the rest of the town.“ "Is this true? Well, Miss Green, you’re going to prison for a very long time; probably the rest of your life."
Bertha immediately started to fight the police. The cane she used to hobble herself around long forgotten as it rolled to the other side of the cell. Still, her efforts were in vain as she was dragged out of the building screaming.
Charles, who was grateful as grateful can be, thanked William for telling the truth. "Thank you so much William. You are a good man "
William brushed it aside. “No problem. That nut job had done enough, and was high time she got put somewhere she can’t hurt anyone."
Charles' wife breathed a sigh of relief as neither her or her husband were going to prison.
Part VI: Frightening Epilogue.
Two years later, the night of the green potato had long passed. As well as the potato famine had ended. The town, and country as a whole, were glad that the nightmare was finally over. People were able to eat potatoes without fear. Hunger was no longer such a problem for Ireland and the town reflected this. It had boomed, becoming full of life never seen before. The castle that was burn down had been left alone, with no future plans of a renovation or a new building on the location out of respect. Charles’ stand, however, had seen renovations. The merchant now ran a store market that was double the size of his old stand to accommodate the influx of customers. Charles’ days were busy as ever, and today was no different.
"Morning, Charles. Very busy day I see." William laughed as he leaned on the counter.
"Hi, William. Yeah. Ever since the potato thing came to an end, the town has been more active then ever." He started wiping down the counter by his friend.
"I hear ya. That night of the green potato was still crazy. I mean, a potato walking around like that. Do you think there were more?” William asked, moving the other side as Charles closed in.
"It was Halloween. We were all probably just tired and just imagined it. I feel bad for the poor castle. and the people that owned it, though.” Charles’ tone was somewhat melancholic as he laid the towel over his shoulder.
"Hey, what are y'all talking about?" Charles's wife popped over.
Charles shrugged some, “Just talking about that Halloween from a couple of years ago ."
"Ah, yes. That was a strange night. You know, I heard a rumor that Bertha tried breaking out of prison but got caught." Charles’ wife took the jar of sweets William was digging through and moved it to another shelf.
"Really? Wow. What a maniac. Glad she's behind bars." William hopped up on the counter, deciding to sit for a spell.
"Yeah. She was a nut job. The town is safer with her off the streets." Charles sounded exasperated as he stared at his friend. The three continued with their day, putting the night of the green potato in the past. Until later that night when Charles and his wife reflected on it again.
“I guess you were right; we did see the end of this potato famine.” Charles said as he adjusted his pillow. “I really thought I was going to jail that Halloween night. Thank god for William.” Charles snorted.
“That was very good on William. He did the right thing.” Charles’ wife looked over. “You know, after all this, I think we should go on a vacation with the kids.”
“Where would we go?” Charles raised in eyebrow.
“I don’t know. We can think about later. After all, the holidays are coming up, so we’re going to be very busy.”
“We sure are. But, I like the sound of that. Maybe New York wouldn’t be bad.” Charles offered.
Charles’s wife nodded in agreement. “Oh, that does sound fun.” She extinguished the candle on her nightstand. “Good night, hun.”
“Good night, dear.” Charles followed suite and held his wife close to him as they both drifted off to sleep, ready for sweet dreams to return. All the madness was finally over and they could live in peace, after all.
Meanwhile, in In New York, the three potatoes had built a secret underground laboratory, complete with a top notch security system to keep an angry mob at bay. With the new lab and a extra pair of hands, the world hasn’t seen the last of Spudstein!