Oh, look who it is again, the produce hater. I know what you're here to do. You're here to make fun of my amazing and not at all suspicious produce. For shame, how could you. You know not everyone can just come up to me and talk produce, there's a waiting list. That's right, there's a waiting list that you have to sign up for just to SPEAK to me about produce. This is the freshest crop this side of every river and the other side of said rivers as well. I don't mess around with produce. Frankly, my mind fails to see any correlation on the graph of messings per around and farmfreshing per crop. One time someone tried to cheat me out of one of my fine, not-at-all-just-a-bunch-of-strawberries-mashed-together-to-look-like-a-lemon lemons. You know what I did to them? I told them they had to pay for it. What, did you think I was going to hurt them? I have no intention of hurting anyone, the only thing I have an eternal duel with is the concept of decay. My produce will never die, never wither. It is perpetually fresh, forever locked on a Pax

Viridatem Infudit. Your privilege of viewing my crop must not be understated. Look, produce plebian, Look upon my crops.

Ye mighty, and despair.

*SOME PRODUCE MAY BE SUBJECT TO GENETIC ENGINEERING IN SPITE OF A GREATER POWER.