New potato magnates eager to get going

I’m not sure if it was something in the spring air, or perhaps the coffee at the Bakery in Rainy River had a little extra zip, but Tater and Chip—two supposedly-retired seniors—were acting like a couple of gophers hopped up on magic mushrooms.
“I think it will work just fine and the soil will soon be warm enough. Don’t you think so, Chip?” quizzed Tater as he cautiously held his cup out for a refill and peered over his glasses at his companion.
“Say! The thing is, I’m only acting as consultant on this project. You’re the money man,” countered Chip as he giggled nervously and hopped his chair at the debating table over a bit to make room for the Runt, who had just sauntered in.
“Well, yes, I do have $15.80 invested so far, not counting labour and travel expenses, but she’s already paying dividends,” continued Tater as he gazed towards the ceiling to collect his thoughts.
“Dividends? What dividends? Like on my CN stock? I’ll have an order of toast and peanut butter,” gushed the Runt all in one breath as he opened and stirred a creamer into his coffee.
“Well, sort of … I managed to sell the cord-and-a-half of firewood I scavenged when I pulled that equipment out of the fence row,” answered Tater as he paused to sip his coffee and continued to peer wisely over his glasses.
“Say! The thing is, let me explain,” offered Chip as his consultant skills came to the forefront.
“Tater found a complete set of potato planting, cultivating, and harvesting equipment setting in a fence row,” he recounted. “We had to cut out the 10-inch polar trees that were growing up through it to liberate it.
“And when we got it back to where we were going to scrap it, it looked like maybe a bit of work could make it operational so we’ve been busy the last month getting it ship shape,” added Chip, who, pretty much winded, had to pause for a caffeine infusion.
Tater slouched still lower in his chair and, still peering over his glasses, took another sip and then carried on for Chip.
“I’ve got that nice sandy field out by the river so I’m going to put in a crop of potatoes,” he remarked.
“There should be good money in them. We’re just off to pick up our seed stock now.”
“You’re growing potatoes,” said the Runt. “That means I won’t have to plant any in my garden and I won’t get sucked into hilling Elliott’s for a share of his.
“Can I put my order in now?” he asked, showing all kinds of enthusiasm (of course, that might just have been the arrival of the toast and peanut butter talking).
For the next 30 minutes, the debating table simply was abuzz with the finer points of potato production. Tater slouched still lower, peered more earnestly over his glasses, and soaked it all in.
Scrounger, the until now recognized local expert on potatoes, kept his own counsel wondering if he was about to be dethroned as production magnate.
“Say! The thing is we gotta get going. Lots of work to do,” stated Chip, jumping from his chair, adding, “You pay for the coffee, Tater.”
The price and delivery date hasn’t been firmed up yet, but I expect you can place your order at the debating table, most any day during coffee break between 9 and 10:30 a.m.

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