We Storybirders are so cool; we’re fighting the Potato Apocalypse!


I just reread @firstredhead’s Fighting the Potato Apocalype, and I HAD to write a blog post on YSBU after my line in Chapter 4:

Cherry’s mouth gaped open in awe as she viewed the approaching army dig and push beneath the earth.
“I know this is a really bad time,” she said, not removing her gaze. “But this is so going on the blog.”

In case you didn’t know, APTers (a term we use for members of A Pointless Task) are obsessed with potatoes, for some reason. FtPA is this super-potatorific longform book which has a star-studded cast of characters which consists of various Storybirders (not all could be mentioned in this blog post, unfortunately). The plot is face-paced, intriguing and just – amazing. Even if you don’t know those Storybirders, it’s a great read. Now, onto the post:

Click the above image to start reading FtPA by firstredhead on Storybird

Dear readers, I am writing this as our enemies attack us unmercifully, since there’s nothing much I can help with when it comes to war, especially when it’s war on potatoes.

Host is on the front, keeping off the potatoes with what he calls Potato Dispatch, a chemical which he pours into his gun and uses to kill the potatoes. There’s utter chaos everywhere. Apartment 17 is a mess and I can’t wait till we shift to Apt. 18. If only the pesky potatoes would let us.

Sky, Figgy, Cookie and Second have been absent for days now. Our only two adults, along with our feisty landlady and our apartment organiser have gone to seek advice from the Great Seers of the High Council. The Apartment feels empty without them.

Well, at least Apt. 17 has an elevator. Phew.

Only some time ago, I saw those abominable potatoes with hairy skin and sticking-out teeth make their way towards the building. They were like this huge army of – well, potatoes.

To quote Deepy:

“They’re coming from underground.They’re attacking from below. All of them.”

That’s exactly what was happening. The potatoes were like, screaming at the top of their tiny lungs or whatever, and their chants grew stronger by the moment, as more troops came in. We were OBVIOUSLY outnumbered. Soon after that, both Jackie’s (Jackie and Jackie D.) came up to me and told me to pack my most important possessions because we were moving to a new apartment. It was heartbreaking. Leaving behind so many books, I mean. I did manage to fit in about twenty, though.

And the worst part was, Deepy wasn’t coming with us.

The potatoes are getting worse by the minute. A particularly violent one just tried to get in from the window just before I slammed it shut. Its arm’s still wriggling desperately, stuck inside the window. I must go take care of it.

Wish me luck.

Cherry

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