Nearly every day Mrs. Cooter wanted to discuss some new, grand idea she’d had to make her little farm as much like the fictional Sketti Land that the fluffies constantly yammered about, as possible.
The conversations were often punctuated with ‘Wouldn’t it be Wonderful if we’ statements.
And sure the ideas would be incredible, if you didn’t have to get your hands dirty making these ideas actually happen.
Bob reckoned if all he had to do every day was browse pinterest and kiss fluffies on the head they would sound like excellent ideas to him, too.
But he had actual work to do, so the prospect of building carnival rides and seasonal decorations meant that he’d have a shit-load more work, while still fighting to fix all the problems they already had.
April the 1st came around, and Bob decided to mess with the old Cooter.
“Margaret, why don’t you plant spaghetti trees around the farm? I mean, it only makes sense if you’re trying to make this farm into ‘Sketti Land’.”
“Wh…what? What’s a spaghetti tree?”
Bob pulled out his phone and searched youtube for “spaghetti tree”. He skipped over the couple of videos that explained that the idea had been an April Fools joke back in 1957, and located the raw footage as it was aired way back then.
Mrs. Cooter’s face went from looking perplexed,
to astonished
to jubilant.
She stood up and shouted her laughter
“Oh that’s just what we’ll do! Bob we’re going to plant Sketti Trees as far as the eye can see!” She shuffled to the patio door and poked her feet into her slippers, merrily muttering and singing to herself before running out the door and down to the fields to tell all her wonderful fluffies what she planned to do for them. Oh the sweet little darlings, they were going to be so excited, and they were going to love her so much for her kindness, and this was going to be the most incredible place on the planet! Fluffies everywhere were going to flock to her little farm! Oh goodness!
Bob wondered if she would have looked up if he had told her the word “gullible” was painted on the ceiling.
It had been a long day, and she’d figure out the joke when she searched for sources of Spaghetti Tree seeds. Bob decided to go home.
The next morning Bob was up with the sun, and drove to the farm, where he found Mrs. Cooter waiting for him in her nightgown, with no wig on. She was clearly quite agitated.
“Bob, I don’t know why people have to be so uncooperative. I’ve called dozens of seed providers around the world and NONE of them will sell me spaghetti tree seeds!! Not a single one of them! It’s like they don’t think my money is good enough for them! I think it’s Monsanto telling them what farmers can have the seeds, and keeping the supply low so they can make more money!”
“Urm…Mrs. Cooter,
there’s no such thing as a spaghetti tree. It was an April Fools joke.”
Bob confessed. But somehow that didn’t seem to be enough to convince her.
“NO, I saw people saying that online and they’re just wrong, and I’m going to have the BESTEST sketti trees anyone has ever seen, and I don’t care if Monsanto tries to stop me. And all my little fluffy babies are going to help me tend to them and water them and-”
“MARGARET! I’m telling you, the whole idea of a ‘Spaghetti Tree’ is a joke! Pasta doesn’t grow on trees! There’s no such thing! It was April Fools day!”
You could see the hamster fall off the wheel in Mrs. Cooter’s head as she checked her mental calendar.
“Wha?..but…but I told all the fluffies that they were going to get hundreds of sketti trees! Bob…their little hearts are going to be broken!
And it’s all your fault!”
“I didn’t fall for a joke and go make promises to them!”
“Well I don’t care, just go and feed the fluffies! Go on!”
she fell into whimpering “Oh my poor wittwe fwuffies…”
Bob stood up and started toward the door
“Wait, Bob”
he paused
“Don’t tell the fluffies about this” tears ran down her face
“Maybe we can make fake spaghetti trees for them someday. Just…let them keep that hope, okay?”
Bob quickly stepped out the patio door and strode toward the barn, where he thought maybe he’d find more intelligent conversation.
Bob wasn’t surprised to find the pastures abuzz with the news of the new Orchard that Mrs. Cooter had promised them. Younger fluffies were already telling the others that they were living in Sketti Land, and why shouldn’t they? Spaghetti in the morning, spaghetti in the evening, and Mrs. Cooter had even promised to make them her own homemade spaghetti on the upcoming Saturday. I guess if there ever was a Sketti Land in the world, this was it.
Enjoy it while you can, fluffballs.
This can’t last forever.
*additional video content
BBC: Spaghetti-Harvest in Ticino
