[WARNING: Excessive play may cause: Headaches, Extreme anger, Tiredness, Brain cravings, Singing Sunflower hallucinations, Feeling the need to wear a hard hat around vegetables, Damage to already lacking brain cells (which in the long run is good for you, because Zombies are less likely to start showing up at the bottom of your garden,) Extreme Seed Hoarding, Lawnmower collecting, Going outside to converse with your neighbours (certain death) and flatulence.]


Armed with your cucumber, armed with your radish, boldly you will step on to the dew-laden grass within the safe perimeter of the picket-fenced home that you always dreamed of. Plant your vegetables you shall, before running with haste back to safety, back to the comforting confines of your kitchen, to peek through those awful curtains your mother gave you.

And when the war drums sound, and the stink of the rotting folks that you used to lay flowers for appear at bottom of the lane, as they march with squelching feet and missing limbs, and they cry for the soft tenderness of your grey matter, you will stand tall and scream.

...For mercy!


The first over the hurdle will fall, much to your delight as the power of Vitamin D, E, B2 and K, blights the haunted flesh; as you realise that they and they only provide the sustenance of life and that you know, deep down - your mother, she was right.


And should your walnut fall, should your pumpkin be defaced, you know that somewhere down the line of peas you will have reveg. Yes, reveg you shall, against those zombies swimming through the tears of fallen onions, against those who moonwalk across your crops, dusting them with glitter, against those who dare destroy your expensive garden equipment.

And when all is lost and your arsenal depleted, you can only pray that you grew a really tasty squash.