“I don’t know what’s going on, and frankly, I’d rather not talk about it. A few days ago, I received a giant box at my doorstep. I didn’t order anything, and I certainly don’t have any idea why I got a package from Shitty Farms—which, I didn’t even know was a place. Anyway, inside the massive box was the tiniest squash I’ve ever seen. It couldn’t have been more than the size of a golf ball, but it was buried in packing peanuts like it was a rare artifact or something.
I thought it was a mistake. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it, so I left it on the counter. And then, three days later, someone broke into my house. Broke in, like they had the key or something. They didn’t steal anything, they didn’t take my TV. They just walked right up to the squash and demanded I “review it.”
I asked them what they were talking about, and they just said, ‘It’s from Shitty Farms. The squash. You need to review the farm.’
I told them I didn’t know anything about the farm, or the squash, and that I didn’t care to review either. They didn’t care. They just stood there until I gave in.
So, here it is:
The squash is small. In fact, it’s suspiciously small. It’s almost like it’s been overly compressed. I wouldn’t say it tastes like much, but it’s got a certain… oddness to it. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe that’s what they want.
As for the farm, I don’t know anything about it. I’ve never heard of Shitty Farms, and I didn’t ask for any squash. I just want to go about my day, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand what this was all about.
But here you go: a review. A squash, and a farm I’ve never heard of. Enjoy.”
– Gerald “Jerry” Woodson, Semi-Retired Accountant, Who “Called the Police”