Shrooming is Serious Business
Bob stood at attention before his epigeous garden. They all did, all the shroom farmers. The inspector walked before them with her clipboard and her sour face.
"Hm," she said, checking out Francine's garden. She made a note on her clipboard and moved on.
"Uh-huh," she said in an appreciative tone before John's garden, and made her note with a flourish.
Bob scoffed at that quietly. Of course she did, John's garden was always the best. Compared to Bob's pitiful shrooms, his were large and juicy and vibrant.
The inspector stopped before his own garden. She inspected the seals, the garden was a greenhouse, just a big glassy box with a patch of nutrients, encasing their shrooms. They were bright white and red, at least that's what they were supposed to be.
