“I bought a big bag of potatoes and it's growing eyes like crazy. Other foods rot. Potatoes want to see.”

“I used a bag of potato chips as a sock once. Roll Tide!”

“I was just peeling some potatoes for dinner and they all looked like crisp white potatoes until I cut them in half. Every single one had a rotten, gray core. [. . .] I feel like the whole world is black, rotting, and evil. Even when it looks crisp on the outside, that's a lie, because you can't trust anything - on the inside it's nothing like mold. [. . .] So, see, nothing good is ever going to happen, and anyone who says it is, is lying to you.”

“He looked at the piles of food again, and it was like he was seeing it with new eyes. "This is wrong", he thought, "Letting food rot while people die of hunger. It's evil."....He breathed in the too-sweet smell of rotting food, "I can stop this evil.”

“Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but I'm a potato, I go well with gravy!”

“At the front window was something that looked like a machine gun with a cluster of barrels. “Rocket launcher?” he wondered aloud. “Nope, nope! Potatoes. Ella doesn't like potatoes.”“Ella! Where are the others?”“Roof. Ogre-watching. Ella doesn't like ogres. Potatoes.”Potatoes? Frank didn't understand until he swiveled the machine gun around. Its eight barrels were loaded with spuds. At the base of the gun, a basket was filled with more edible ammunition…“They have cannonballs,” Frank said, “and we have a potato gun.”“Starch,” Ella said thoughtfully. “Starch is bad for ogres.”