Sandwich Farm

Öven­sco­tia is an island known by few more than the inhab­i­tants them­selves. Life is said to be easy there. Veg­e­ta­tion seems to grow as high as the sky so food and resources are abun­dant. The peo­ple of Öven­sco­tia are very friend­ly. Music and dance are a way of life here, at least in most places. A group of hid­den war­riors pro­tect the island from any unwant­ed inhab­i­tants and see all, even when you think you are not being watched.

On his trip into Öven­sco­tia, Mr. donut faced weeks of dan­ger­ous trav­el by sea.

After a full day of trav­el­ing through thick woods and open rolling hills that run for miles, Mr. Donut enters into town late in the evening. Before head­ing right to his tem­po­rary abode, he decides to take an unex­pect­ed detour and enjoys a cou­ple glass­es of “fruit malt” from the local tav­ern “The Gar­goyle” which lives up to its eerie name.

Inside is a poor­ly lit cesspool of artists and odd­balls, they hang out in droves togeth­er at round tables that are ran­dom­ly spread through the bar. Fun­ny thing about fruit malts, it’s not like any oth­er drink I’ve had before: walls bend, col­ors blend, very lit­tle becomes of any impor­tance. Many sto­ries of Mr. Donut’s trav­els are col­or­ful and vivid, but one thing is for sure, Mr. Donut does­n’t remem­ber much from that night…

The next morn­ing, Mr. Donut felt as though he could con­quer the world if he was­n’t so hung over. To start the day he decides to stroll through the local bazaar, a cof­fee in one hand and his satchel strapped tight­ly to his shoul­der. The sun was par­tic­u­lar­ly bright that morn­ing and his head was killing him. Eccen­tric art­work and hand­made crafts hang from the walls and are dis­played on tables on each side of the busy alley­way. As he stopped to talk to a leather shop own­er about pur­chas­ing a new bull whip, Mr. Donut noticed some­thing out of the cor­ner of his eye.

A small piglet lays behind the table where the old man set up shop, he seemed shock­ing­ly unphased by the poor ani­mals’ pres­ence. She looked frail and weak, unable to move or acknowl­edge Mr. Donut or the shop own­er. It was clear that this once fun lov­ing ani­mal suf­fered from long-term mal­nour­ish­ment and did­n’t seem to even have the moti­va­tion to move from where it lays. With­out a sec­ond thought, Mr. Donut picked up piglet held her gen­tly with his left arm, tucked firm­ly into his front breast and began his trip to some­where he had heard about from the locals. A per­fect spot for the piglet to not only recov­er, but stay and live a hap­py life. A place called Sand­wich Farm.

The road to Sand­wich Farm is not direct. Even though the moun­tains of Öven­sco­tia are known for being dan­ger­ous and sel­dom explored, all too often do peo­ple under­es­ti­mate the dan­ger of the crea­tures that lurk below the swampy marsh­es and dense wood­lands that span through­out the island. The trip would take 2 days by foot and Mr. Donut was pre­pared to face any­thing from poi­so­nous plants, fierce ani­mals to get­ting lost in the for­est with no sense of direc­tion. Any small mis­take could be fatal.

As said before, Öven­sco­tia is pro­tect­ed by a group of mys­te­ri­ous war­riors known to have a divine knowl­edge of the land and of them­selves. This abil­i­ty is referred to as Nin­ja Vision and many tall tales are told at the local towns often dra­ma­tiz­ing their abil­i­ties. These war­riors are high­ly mis­un­der­stood and mys­ti­fied. Very lit­tle is known about the group, but one thing is for sure, they sim­ply live to pro­tect the land and the laws of nature.

On day 2 of the trip to Öven­sco­tia with piglet held on his right arm, Mr. Donut’s only wor­ry was that piglet would not make it through the trip. With only a cou­ple miles left to go, Mr. Donut heard a rustling of leaves behind him, what­ev­er it was, it was approach­ing quick­ly and there was lit­tle time to react to the noise. With a quick turn, Mr. Donut caught out of the cor­ner of his eye a masked man in the long robe that was a very sim­i­lar dark green col­or that the envi­ron­ment appeared to be. With­in a moment Mr. Donut braced d pre­ci­sion, Mr. Donut defeat­ed the attack­er with a series of par­ries and attacks he accu­mu­lat­ed after many years of trav­el­ing oth­er lands and learn­ing their tech­niques. The masked attack­er was found behead­ed sev­er­al days lat­er by local goods sales­men, the bat­tle is por­trayed in a 7‑minute piece named “Nin­ja Vision”.

As the sec­ond day of trav­el­ing began to wind up, and the sun got close to set­ting, the two final­ly cleared the wood­land and reached an open grass field where the sun could be seen gen­tly set­ting into in the far dis­tance. A small build­ing could be seen on the hori­zon, it was hard to tell exact­ly how far away it was. Mr.Donut noticed the build­ing was a large barn. The two had final­ly reached Sand­wich Farm! As they got clos­er, the sur­round­ing land­scape could be more defined. Large trees car­ried exot­ic foods that could nev­er be seen any­where else. Hoa­gies hung from palms like banana trees, kaisers dan­gled upon tall hard­wood trees and fell like apples, and veg­gie wraps grew from vines del­i­cate­ly grown up truss­es, there were more vari­eties of ready to eat food than can be count­ed for.

As dusk began to set­tle in and the sky became filled with col­ors of deep red and orange, Mr. Donut watched as piglet play­ful­ly ran through­out the premise, eat­ing any­thing in site. Tak­ing a bite of one thing and quick­ly being dis­tract­ed by the sight of anoth­er. Piglet quick­ly found him­self more ful­ly than ever before, but after so long of mal­nour­ish­ment, she could not seem to stop, eat­ing until she became so full and tired that she lays down next to her new friend, who she is deeply grate­ful for and indebt­ed to for sav­ing her life. Exhaust­ed from the long trip and the encounter with the masked war­rior, Mr. Donut sat down on a large, messy pile of hay, lay­ing his satchel and whip beside him, some­thing he had­n’t done in a long time. After such and excit­ing and adven­ture-filled trip, final­ly, a time of respite had come upon them. Mr. Donut, exhaust­ed, and piglet, full to sick­ness and ready to sleep it off, sat togeth­er and watched the sun set. With a sign of relief and a moment of tak­ing in the sur­round­ings, Mr. Donut closed his eyes, laid back against the pile of hay and thought to him­self “I think I’ll stay a while…”