I make enchanted dolls out of lettuce and string. You can buy them from my table in the commons at lunch.

Hey @Mimi Moss this enchanted lettuce doll is all wilted and won’t talk like you said it would. No stars Would Not Buy Again

I found a small doll on my way to class. It was inching dangerously close to the ravenous crater that lives under the bench.

I snatched it up and almost immediately regretted it. Whatever it was made of had dried considerably from when it was first crafted, and pieces of its body crumpled in my hand. If anyone knows where this thing came from I'd love to get it home. It seemed well loved.

-Len

The fumes from that nasty chemical man are making my lettuce dolls cough. I do not have rebreathers in the size for my dolls, @Big Jim.

Tired of wilty old produce dolls? Soft and shrinky turnip heads? Limp and floppy lettuce arms? And haven't you had enough of their incessant non-poison-resistant wheezing?

Then try Flaveur Saveur!!!!

Check out my full line of GMO dolls, proudly on display in the hot hot mid-day heat at my booth in the commons! They won't wilt! They won't go soft and limpy! (when used as directed*).

Use the coupon code CGN-89564-2 when you see me for 15% off AND a free bottle of Rejujumix, with application syringe.

Get them today, and enjoy their ripe, sunny dispositions ALL SUMMER LONG!!!





*Do not eat Flaveur Saveur dolls. Do not lick Flaveur Saveur dolls. Any attempt to place Flaveur Saveur dolls in a fertilization medium will result in immediate arrest by the Flaveur Saveur Security Team. Do not expose Flaveur Saveur dolls to water that has not be properly diluted with Rejujumix.

My lettuce dolls lacked resilience. But now, try my Bean Babies! Recovered from the tarnished altar of the Southern Chemical Giant himself. Seven pulsing beanies, still wrapped in protective spider-silk packaging. These rare darlings are part of an extremely limited edition, so get yours quick before they're gone!

Monday through Thursday
11am to 2pm
The Commons, #13b

Tin foil hat sale! Protects wearer from falling sparks, electromagnetic fields, and telepathic impactive impingement. Each one lovingly made to order for perfect fit. Get yours today and receive two free punks and a box of sparklers. Look for the bunting in the commons. Payment in psychic crypto only.

I'd like to remove my negative review of @Mimi Moss's enchanted lettuce doll. Is it possible to delete it?

After it wilted I threw it on the strip of grass behind the dumpster at Belladonna Dorm. Then @Mimi Moss gave me a free Bean Baby to make up for my bad review. It squirmed in my hand so I threw it out behind the dumpster too.

Then the weird rain fell.

Now it's like a cabbage erupted and it's as big as a playhouse! I call it a Bunny House.

Come to my Bunny House! I'm there all the time now.

DEEP INSIDE THE BUNNY HOUSE -- CHAPTER ONE

Upon arrival at the temperamental and untidy @Herbert Albert's Bunny House, chaos reigned. Pringles containers half empty and smashed, cans of Monster, Bang, and Fang strewn around the entrance. The Bunny House itself loomed like a great green cabbagey chapel, roughly three meters in height, its sturdy ribbed outer walls coming together to form the folds of a frilly, slightly parted entrance, much like a tent or canopied bed. Though more taunt. And made of vegetable matter.

My team consists of The Dream Team, so named because they first met each other in their dreams, and endured tests and quests to finally come together here at Psyhigh. They are: Y-971, genetically enhanced and modified bio-form; Young Jimmy Apples, immortal child; and Fecund Bogsoil, recently unearthed druid priestess.

We apportioned ourselves well at the Student Market beforehand. Sensitive Calabari ropes, which become responsive upon repeated handling; Neverlasting Goglobes, attached to our epaulets by incredibly thin invisible wire; various handclaws, footspikes, and clingons based on designs illegal in this sector. Plus a delectable assortment of jams, scones, and bottled psychoactive teas.

I leave this record at the entrance as insurance that, in the event of our disappearance, there will be at least the beginning of trail of clues as to our fate.

G.B.

DEEP INSIDE THE BUNNY HOUSE -- CHAPTER TWO

The central shaft was ribbed with celery, and offered no resistance to our flimflams and pitons as we made our descent into the pit of unknown vegetable madness.

“Weeeeeeeee!” cried Young Jimmy Apples as he unfurled his Calabari rope and flew into the darkness below us.

“Aieeeee buachaill! Má choinníonn tú ag léim thart ar nós gabhar buí beidh tú ag fáil bháis dúinn uile!” Fecund Bogsoil hollered after him.

“You stiiiiiiiink!” cried Young Jimmy Apples, still descending far below. How deep did this shaft go?

“He is objectively correct,” added Y-971, sidling down beside me. “The Druid still carries the scent of the peat in which she was encased for so long.”

Cool, heavily oxygenated air wafted up from below us. A quick estimation of the flow indicated the size of this vegan catacombs must be enormous.

“I’ll make a point to stay upwind.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!” Young Jimmy Apples’ scream was faint but audible.

“Ní fearr an buachaill sin a bheith ag imirt ceann dá cleasanna arís,” grumbled Fecund Bogsoil as she whisked past me down her rope.

I almost threw up in my mouth from the stench.

G.B