Chapter VII, Politricks

Veggie Head Stalker was becoming increasingly more elusive. Not only was he trying to hide from the media, but he was hiding things from me as well. While I couldn't be sure of what was bothering him I could tell a bad seed had been planted. The media analysts all speculated Veggie was either up to something criminal, or was simply beginning to feel ill effects from constant media attention, but while it was true that life in front of the camera was certainly taking its toll on me Veggie seemed to consider it no more than a minor inconvenience-- a game to be played on his terms and at his leisure.

Lots of people came and went. Our front door was like a tool booth. Some of them were looking to cash in on Veggie's new found popularity, others were the occasional hit man sent by P-E-T-S, the sick scourge they were. And still others were Herbs. Yes, the visits from the many people named Herb, black, white, male, female, trans, Native American, Indian, Hispanic, Australoid, and Oriental continued on a regular basis, usually with another adventure following close behind.

One of the visitors who came by often and wasn't a Herb was a high ranking official of the NRA. The coconut incident was still on Veggie's mind, and he had become very vocal about his concern that plants should not be allowed to carry guns. The NRA was concerned that Veggie's comments might also apply to people as well, and as you well know, the NRA makes it a point to stop gun control dead in its tracks. Veggie and I both insisted that since plants were neither people, citizens, or voters, that they were not afforded equal protection under the laws of the United States and shouldn't be granted the same rights as law-abiding citizens. The man from the NRA agreed with us but conceded that our actions might be perceived by many as being anti-gun.

I'd like to take this opportunity to comment that at no time have Veggie or I ever sought to take away the rights of law-abiding citizens to keep and bear arms. As a matter of fact: while the network conveniently cut to commercial Veggie and I both joined the NRA while the man was still in our home.

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Veggie's popularity was gaining momentum in leaps and bounds. Even the wacko members of P-E-T-S were unable to put Veggie down. People didn't want to hear from them any more. People were tired of pushing their way through angry mobs of protesters just to get to the grocery store or get produce out of the fields, and there was more than one P-E-T-S protester who ended up in traction because of an incident involving a farm tractor or a produce truck. P-E-T-S had pushed people too far. People were sick and tired of P-E-T-S and deciding on their own to do something about it. And the ASPCA wasn't getting in the way.

In the meantime, P-E-T-S began to covertly increase the pressure on Veggie and I.

Late one evening another Herb came by. Veggie and Herb walked out to the gazebo and talked for a few minutes before Herb left. Early the next morning Veggie announced publicly that we were leaving on the next commercial flight to Boston so that we could take down an angry crop of lettuce. "But Veggie," I questioned, "No one grows lettuce in Boston anymore."

"That's right," Veggie grinned," that's why we're taking a covert military transport to Lebanon."

"Oh," I replied, "You just said that to throw off the media."

"Now you're thinking like a fighter instead of a scribe," Veggie laughed. "By the time all the confusion gets straighted out we'll be half way there."

"Do you really think we can beat the lettuce?" I asked. "I've heard those middle eastern heads are pretty tough."

"Let us see," was Veggie's only reply...

Lettuce, See

"Lettuce see, lettuce see."
The Stalker, he kept mumbling
as down the hill he rolled away
bouncing and a tumbling.
See lettuce had avoided him
for years and years gone by,
so he had climbed a mountain
to give some head a try.

Was when he got up to the top,
his problems did arise,
for way up on the plateau there,
was a big surprise.
Lettuce stretched miles and miles
with heads all standing thick,
so Veggie tried to eat it all,
his head hard as a brick.

So lettuce see, lettuce see,
is all he can now say.
It seems he ate so awful much
to serve his gluttonous ways,
when finally, he had ate so much
he couldn't breath no more,
and passed out tumbling down the hill,
feeling really sore.

"Great Caesar Salad! Has Veggie finally found a head even harder than his own? He's really looking bad, it might be his wounds need some dressing-- Catalina maybe, or Blue Cheese? Maybe if he didn't ravage his vegetables so he wouldn't feel so sore. Stay tuned to find out what happens next when the mighty Vegetable Stalker takes on a head of cabbage. Lettuce see if he gets a head of that."

Of course cabbage wouldn't be our next target. Veggie had gotten enough head for the time being and wasn't about to let the network goons dictate his adventures to him. Oh no, our next Veggisode would be Veggies In the Dark.