Old Butterworth awakens in a damp burlap sack smelling of dirt and existential dread. Your sweet orange skin is itching, and the faint sound of a distant deep fryer echoes like a war drum. A fellow tuber whispers that the Great Peeler is coming, and your starch levels are high enough to be prime target for a holiday casserole.
roll
Roll Down the Hill
A flawless roll. Rocks and rabbits bowed as they whizzed by.
scenario
The Muddy Crossroad
Old Butterworth slams into a stagnant puddle at the bottom of the hill, splashing a family of disgusted earthworms. A nearby crow is eyeing your orange flesh with predatory intent, debating whether you are a vegetable or a very slow bird. Your new eye is twitching uncontrollably, granting you 360-degree vision of a discarded fast-food wrapper.
mash
Mash Resistance
Held the masher off with sheer starchy will. Legendary.
fryer
Escape the Fryer
Timed each jump like a rhythm-game god and vaulted out of the oil.