I greatly dislike this post


I need to write something and so I’m writing something, but I haven’t slept well recently and my brain is lacking in things to write about other than that and that is a boring thing that I don’t want to write about, but here I am doing that and this sentence is getting long so I will end it. Excuses are bad and this post is one of them, which is why I dislike this post.


Lack and the Potato Mine: Conclusion

1 and a half russet potato with sprouts. Slice...

1 and a half russet potato with sprouts. Sliced (left) and whole (right). About 4 1/2 inches (11.5 cm) in length. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“I’ve been waiting for you to come down and answer the door for almost two months! What took so long? Also, you look familiar.” said Lack.

“So do you! Come inside.” said the stranger.

Lack clumsily enflopped himself from Hwoggenboggen’s piggish back to the tower’s front step and walked through the door. He found a shiny modern elevator of the sort that didn’t exist. The doors opened and the stranger led him in. The stranger clapped loudly six times and the doors opened again. Lack observed that he was now somewhere else (though he had felt no movement) and stepped out.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“The top floor.”

“Why didn’t it take two months?”

“It did. You just don’t remember. I have much to tell you.”

Then Wilhelm, for that was his name, proceeded to tell Lack much. 

Please do not read the previous sentence if you don’t want to know who the stranger is or why he is familiar. 

“I have been watching you since you arrived in the upper level of the Potato Mine. I can see what all the birds that have been following you see.  I know from the look on your face that you haven’t noticed them, which is unimportant. I have become very good at many things in all the years since I came here and spying on visitors is one of them. Talking is not. I haven’t introduced myself yet.

I am your long lost brother, Wilhelm. More accurately, you are my clone, made after I left.

I came here, just as you did, to escape lunchification by Mother and Father and to find a potato. Back then, we called them ‘Something that could change everything’, but I’ve always thought ‘potato’ sounded better.

Anyway, I failed. This tower has been my home now for the last 312 years and will continue to be so until someone finds a potato.

Unfortunately, it won’t be you because you are now under the same curse.”

“What curse?” asked Lack.

“The one that won’t let us go outside until someone finds a potato. Don’t worry, we will not age here, and we have an infinite supply of pigs to eat.” he replied.



Related articles

Lack and the Potato Mine part 11 (click “lack” tag for previous chapters)

English: Oran Beg The water tower familiar to ...

Image via Wikipedia

The face in the tower was familiar, but Lack didn’t know for sure why. It just had the quality of familiarity to it and it isn’t always easy to know what that means. It may have just been someone with a familiar hat or a familiar pair of socks. This individual did not wear a hat and Lack couldn’t see his feet, but similar examples might apply.

Lack rode his current pig closer to the tower after naming him. The pig was now Hwoggenboggen, named after Lack’s favorite dessert (a pie made with trout custard and leopard bacon). Hwoggenboggen loved his new name and was happy to follow Lack’s commands. The pigs that Hwoggenboggen walked upon were less cooperative and often walked in other directions, so the short distance to the tower took a great deal more time than it should have.

When the door was in front of them, Lack was exhausted. He tried knocking before he realized that the mysteriously familiar face on the highest floor was probably the only person there. He did not know how he knew this, but he did.

Lack and the Potato Mine: The Intermissionary Side-quel


I, your beloved narrator, will soon tell you what happened next to Lack in his magical, subterranean potato mine.

However, we first will visit another place, time, and set of characters. I’m the kind of narrator who’s allowed to do that.

It is now 312 years earlier in the village of Otchia, where all are named Otch. Every Otch is different, but they are united by their shared name and profession as magically pointy stick salesmen. We are watching a conversation between Otch and Otch through the eyes of a statue of Otch in the Otchia town square.

Deutsch: Lindenhof in Zürich, Gesamtansicht, B...

Image via Wikipedia

“Otch, it was you!” says Otch.

“Aye, it is, though it is me in the present tense. I wish ye’d learn to use that like t’rest of es. Times change and so does our speakin’ words,” replies Otch.

“I see you didn’t know, but I spoke of the past because the past was continuing on.”

“It’s becomin’ the future. The past ends all te’ time, I say.”

“The future was the past too. That was why I called you here today, Otch. There was The Prophesy.”

“I am listenin’!”

“I expected that. I brought Otch here to help me explain it to you. She can use present and future tenses.”

Otch was standing directly behind Otch and now steps to the side.

Otch now begins to tell Otch and Otch of the prophesy made by Otch ages ago that foretold that in 312 years, there would be a ferocious and horrible family of Otch-eating trolls that would come in contact with one of the Otch. A giant boy troll would accept a pointy stick and spare Otch’s life and he would enter the mine in search of something that could change everything.

“What was his name?” asks Otch.

“It’s,” says Otch.

“going to be Wilhelm,” says Otch.

“and how will he change everything?” asks a different Otch from the one who asked the last question.

“The Prophesy doesn’t say,” answers Otch (I forget which).

Lack and another chapter (10)

Pig iron

Image by lonecellotheory via Flickr

“I have reached the highest pig!” announced the triumphant Lack just before slipping and becoming lodged at a depth of between four and seven piggometers.

He was unaware of how deep a “piggometer” was at the time because it has never been used as a unit of measurement before the previous sentence. It is probably about the height of one pig, and therefore, not very exact.

This sequence of climbing, rejoicing, and falling again repeated nine times before Lack realized that he could keep his position on the highest pig more easily when he didn’t rejoice at all. It was either distracting him or alerting the animals that it was time to knock him over again, so he stopped doing it.

Now that he was able to keep his ground, he stopped and looked around him. The hoggish field extended around him in all directions for as far as the eye could see, but that was not all he saw.

A small, but sturdy-looking tower made of something other than pig (maybe pig iron) rose at least four, but less than seven piggometers into the clear gray sky. This tower had two windows distributed among the five floors and from the highest, looked down another familiar face.

Lack and Part 9


Previousness within this link

The landing this time a bit harder because he landed on pigs. Pigs look like they would be soft of squishy, but this is rarely the case. Pigs have hard bones. They have hard muscles. They have hard personalities when you fall on them.

These pigs were already uncomfortable as a consequence of being on top and/or under more pigs.

A herd of Large Black swine.

Image via Wikipedia

Lack found himself between five pigs two layers down. They were not especially dirty, but the smell was overwhelmingly piggish nonetheless.

Lack was normally an avid enthusiast of pork, but he very much did not enjoy being buried in it. His instinct told him, for once, not to chew and swallow, but to look straight up and climb to the top of the pile. Fortunately, the space between pigs was just enough to allow in breathable air. It remained unpleasant in fragrance, but was not toxic.

Lack’s struggle to reach the highest pig took him longer than he would have expected. It is impossible to say how long he expected it to take, since he didn’t expect to have to do it at all until it was too late.