Part 1:
“Mister Richard, Mister Richard! Wake up!!"
“Where ... where am I?"
“Where are you? Why you're here, of course. Yes, you're certainly here, right in the now."
“And who are you?"
“Mister Richard, surely you jest. Well, you did take a bad turn. Take a moment to collect your faculties."
“I'm trying. But it's strange. I can't. Not so much."
“Worry none, Mister Richard. You're in good hands."
“I am?
“Why of course! Have no fear. Carrot will get you home."
“Where ... where am I?"
“Where are you? Why you're here, of course. Yes, you're certainly here, right in the now."
“And who are you?"
“Mister Richard, surely you jest. Well, you did take a bad turn. Take a moment to collect your faculties."
“I'm trying. But it's strange. I can't. Not so much."
“Worry none, Mister Richard. You're in good hands."
“I am?
“Why of course! Have no fear. Carrot will get you home."
“This is not real. It can't be. And yet? It feels ... true. Have I gone mad?"
“Please, follow me. We have a very long way to travel."
“We've met before? You know me?"
“Yes, Master Richard. And I must save your life."
“My life? I don't understand."
A trumpet rang out from on high, the sound blaring loud and clear.
“Save your life!" cackled a voice. “Save your life!"
The horn blasted once again, a cacophony of shill and non-sequential notes.
“Ignore that fool," said Carrot. “That is the Corn Trumpeter. He loves chaos, loves strife."
“Why?"
“Madness. None of the other vegetables respect him. Nor like him. Not one."
“Carrot shall save your life! Oh really? Ha ha ha ha ha!"
The Corn Trumpeter danced madly around Rick, blasting his golden instrument to the Heavens.
“Please, follow me. We have a very long way to travel."
“We've met before? You know me?"
“Yes, Master Richard. And I must save your life."
“My life? I don't understand."
A trumpet rang out from on high, the sound blaring loud and clear.
“Save your life!" cackled a voice. “Save your life!"
The horn blasted once again, a cacophony of shill and non-sequential notes.
“Ignore that fool," said Carrot. “That is the Corn Trumpeter. He loves chaos, loves strife."
“Why?"
“Madness. None of the other vegetables respect him. Nor like him. Not one."
“Carrot shall save your life! Oh really? Ha ha ha ha ha!"
The Corn Trumpeter danced madly around Rick, blasting his golden instrument to the Heavens.
“Ignore that fool," said Carrot. “Come now."
“Where?"
“I need to get you home."
“My home? Which way?"
“The way to go? Why, towards the sun! Always, always, point sunward."
“The sun? That's the solution?"
“It's the center of the universe, you know."
“That's obvious."
“Good enough for the universe? Good enough for me!"
“I'm not so sure. You merely use the sun as an answer?"
“The sun has done right by my kind. The sun, as is true the soil, does deliver."
“Where?"
“I need to get you home."
“My home? Which way?"
“The way to go? Why, towards the sun! Always, always, point sunward."
“The sun? That's the solution?"
“It's the center of the universe, you know."
“That's obvious."
“Good enough for the universe? Good enough for me!"
“I'm not so sure. You merely use the sun as an answer?"
“The sun has done right by my kind. The sun, as is true the soil, does deliver."
“Ok, fine. Yet where is my home?" Rick asked Carrot.
“Home is always nearby. Even when very far away."
“Are you sure? This doesn't feel like reality."
“Reality? And just how does that feel?"
“Not like this."
“Let's get a consensus."
“How so?
“We shall ask another."
“Who?"
“Watermelon! Good sir? Pray tell, what say you about the feel of real?"
“Reality is rind and seeds, and the drizzle of juice," answered Watermelon.
“Juice?"
“Juice forever! Now wipe the corners of your mouth. Corners, you say? Edges, more like it! The farthest expanses of one's wet lips."
“You talk ... with such passion."
“I must! For time is short. From seed to watermelon in a summer's day."
“But then what?"
“I grow ripe, of course. As do all. My cycle ends complete."
“I like you, Watermelon. You seem a lively soul."
“And I like you, good sir. May your travels lead fully to harvest bliss."
“Home is always nearby. Even when very far away."
“Are you sure? This doesn't feel like reality."
“Reality? And just how does that feel?"
“Not like this."
“Let's get a consensus."
“How so?
“We shall ask another."
“Who?"
“Watermelon! Good sir? Pray tell, what say you about the feel of real?"
“Reality is rind and seeds, and the drizzle of juice," answered Watermelon.
“Juice?"
“Juice forever! Now wipe the corners of your mouth. Corners, you say? Edges, more like it! The farthest expanses of one's wet lips."
“You talk ... with such passion."
“I must! For time is short. From seed to watermelon in a summer's day."
“But then what?"
“I grow ripe, of course. As do all. My cycle ends complete."
“I like you, Watermelon. You seem a lively soul."
“And I like you, good sir. May your travels lead fully to harvest bliss."
“I enjoy your world, Carrot. Why can't I stay here a while?"
“Oh no, Mister Richard. We must get you home."
“Why? What's the rush?"
“You clearly aren't yourself, good sir, that is clear."
“I feel alright."
“Have you forgotten? Exalted Lord Rizzem? The scourge of so many lands. Not ours, of course. Not yet. But he'll want you."
“Why?"
“You are not vegetable. Not plant. And thus susceptible."
“Where does he come from?"
“I know not. But Algo Rizzem is a relentless, unceasing terror. We must be careful."
“Oh no, Mister Richard. We must get you home."
“Why? What's the rush?"
“You clearly aren't yourself, good sir, that is clear."
“I feel alright."
“Have you forgotten? Exalted Lord Rizzem? The scourge of so many lands. Not ours, of course. Not yet. But he'll want you."
“Why?"
“You are not vegetable. Not plant. And thus susceptible."
“Where does he come from?"
“I know not. But Algo Rizzem is a relentless, unceasing terror. We must be careful."
Do you feel that" Carrot asked.
“Feel what?"
“Something has changed. The mood."
“I do feel it. I'm crying!"
And me as well. It leads to one answer."
“Ah, my presence announces itself," said a voice.
“I knew it was you," Carrot replied.
“Well then, greetings and insinuations."
“Hello to thee, Onion."
“You bring a guest through our lands? In search of mysteries and answers."
"We seek only his home. Not the secrets of the universe."
“You are easily peeled, and thus carry no weight."
“We may all be peeled. Our truth lies in our taste."
“A bland taste? Of no use."
“Perhaps."
“The bitter taste? We impose our will upon nominal flavors. That is superiority."
“You are easily ground. Conveyed as spice, as so many of us are not. You lack nuance and subtlety."
Onion stood in disbelief.
“I reign over taste. Over flavor. Over the base elements."
“Others do as well. Cinnamon. Mustard. Spearmint. You are barely a vegetable."
“Who among us may discern the truth of taste? Of poetry? Or art?"
“I cannot, at this time, disagree."
“Thus I stand. Triumphant. Flavor is flavor. And I am supreme."
Onion sauntered away, as if on a date with destiny, or a plate of fried liver, or some weird, unlikely combination of both.
“Feel what?"
“Something has changed. The mood."
“I do feel it. I'm crying!"
And me as well. It leads to one answer."
“Ah, my presence announces itself," said a voice.
“I knew it was you," Carrot replied.
“Well then, greetings and insinuations."
“Hello to thee, Onion."
“You bring a guest through our lands? In search of mysteries and answers."
"We seek only his home. Not the secrets of the universe."
“You are easily peeled, and thus carry no weight."
“We may all be peeled. Our truth lies in our taste."
“A bland taste? Of no use."
“Perhaps."
“The bitter taste? We impose our will upon nominal flavors. That is superiority."
“You are easily ground. Conveyed as spice, as so many of us are not. You lack nuance and subtlety."
Onion stood in disbelief.
“I reign over taste. Over flavor. Over the base elements."
“Others do as well. Cinnamon. Mustard. Spearmint. You are barely a vegetable."
“Who among us may discern the truth of taste? Of poetry? Or art?"
“I cannot, at this time, disagree."
“Thus I stand. Triumphant. Flavor is flavor. And I am supreme."
Onion sauntered away, as if on a date with destiny, or a plate of fried liver, or some weird, unlikely combination of both.