Lobster Man II: Mombo from Mars

TruTraTri Week 1 — Transmission Two The specimen had awakened. After the 4-day germination, the young Gorilla Zkittlez Fast entered its first week under Martian observation. “Report, Mombo.” “It remains alive, Master.” “Excellent.” “It has done nothing else.” “Then it is waiting.” The slightly stretched specimen stood unchanged in its chamber while the machines hummed and Mombo tried to look important. Mombo checked the atmospheric readouts, confused by the wild fluctuations of this strange blue planet. “Temperature range detected, Master… minimum 4, maximum 25… average 14.” The Lobster Man narrowed his eyes. “Unstable climate… unpredictable conditions… perfect for concealment.” Mombo nodded, though he clearly had no idea what that meant. _____________________________________________________________________________ “Then we must go to Earth!” — Lobster Man from Mars

TruTraTri ### Week 2 — Transmission Three The order came without warning. “Move the specimen.” Mombo obeyed. The **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** was transferred into a **1-gallon pot** — a larger containment unit for the growing Earth specimen. The operation was slow, careful, and unnecessarily dramatic. The Lobster Man observed from the shadows. “It lives?” “Yes, Master.” “Good.” The specimen settled into its new chamber. More room. More silence. More opportunity for the kind of Martian plan that looked impressive only because the lights were pointed upward. Mombo stood guard beside the containment unit, waiting for a reaction. The plant gave him nothing. So Mombo wrote down: **transfer successful**. The Lobster Man accepted the report with the cold patience of a creature whose entire strategy depended on cheap equipment, Earth air, and one strangely important green specimen. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ “If we don’t get air soon, Mars is finished!” — *Lobster Man from Mars*

TruTraTri ### Week 3 — Suspicious Silence Mombo stood beside the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** containment vessel all week, holding a clipboard he still couldn’t read. The specimen stayed stable.n That bothered him. At night, the chamber readings dropped to near-freezing levels — a creeping Earth phenomenon Mombo logged as **“frost intrusion.”** He pressed his helmet closer to the glass, half expecting the specimen to shiver or protest. It did neither. Inside the command chamber, the Lobster Man slowly turned a dial that clearly did nothing. “Report.” “It is calm, Master.” “Too calm?” Mombo stared at the plant. “It might be planning something.” The Lobster Man paused, considering this with great seriousness. “Good. Then we are ahead of it.” Mombo nodded, because on Mars it was safer to agree than to understand. They remained at their posts. The 1-gallon chamber sat quietly, humming under flickering lights while the mission continued exactly as planned — or at least exactly as it looked on paper. At the end of the week, Mombo filed the report: **Specimen stable. Mission continues.** ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Lobster Man, we got a big problem. Mars is dying.” — King of Mars

TruTraTri ### Week 4 — The Apical Incident The Earth weather began acting like a badly written supporting character. By night, it still crept in cold and suspicious. By day, it had grown warmer, almost friendly — which made Mombo trust it even less. This week, the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** specimen was officially measured for the first time. **23 cm.** Mombo stared at the number. Then he stared at the plant. Then he stared at the number again, in case Earth mathematics had changed while he was blinking. “Master,” he reported, “the specimen is gaining vertical ambition.” The Lobster Man turned slowly in his throne of painted cardboard and red bulbs. “Vertical ambition becomes rebellion.” Mombo nodded. He did not know if that was science, politics, or lunch. To prevent the Earth treasure from becoming too tall for its containment plan, the tip of the plant was lightly cut — a small **apical nick**, too modest to be called topping, too uncertain to be called FIM, but dramatic enough for Mombo to log it as: **CONTROL EXPERIMENT: SIDEWAYS DESTINY** The idea was simple, at least on paper: discourage the specimen from reaching too far upward and maybe persuade it to grow broader instead. The plant gave no statement. Mombo took that as cooperation. In the royal chamber, the Lobster Man clicked one claw against the console. “If it grows wide,” he said, “it can carry more flavor.” Mombo wrote that down immediately. Outside the chamber, the cheap stars wobbled on visible strings. Inside, the specimen stood at **23 cm**, slightly wounded at the top, possibly offended, possibly inspired, and now part of a Martian plan that was becoming less scientific by the hour. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Of course, it all makes perfect sense!” — *Lobster Man from Mars*

TruTraTri ### Week 5 — The Pressure Method The chamber warmed, and the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** responded with strong growth. “Master… the specimen is rising again.” A pause. Then the Lobster Man’s voice: “Everything on Earth rises before it becomes a problem.” Mombo blinked. “That sounds like a problem already.” “Exactly.” He approached the plant and applied a careful **pinch and twist** — not enough to break, just enough to soften the stem. “You are being redirected,” he muttered. “You are altering its structure,” the Lobster Man said. “I am applying pressure.” “…acceptable.” Mombo stepped back. The plant stood unchanged, but something beneath had shifted. He updated the log: **PRESSURE METHOD — STRUCTURAL ADJUSTMENT** ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Of course, it all makes perfect sense!” — Professor Plocostomos

TruTraTri *-10 cm in new pot and future weeks (Transplantation) ### Week 6 — Landing Procedure The heat backed away just enough for the mission to stop feeling like a cooking demonstration. Mombo received the order in the usual way: one red bulb, one useless dial, and the Lobster Man’s voice crackling through a speaker that smelled faintly of burnt wires. “Prepare final containment.” The **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** was moved into its final vessel: the **AutoPot**. To Mombo, this was no longer a simple transplant. This was landing procedure. The specimen was lowered deeper into the new chamber, hiding part of its previous height below the surface like a Martian secret buried in Earth soil. When Mombo stepped back, the plant looked shorter, steadier, and far more suspicious. (50cm before, 40 cm after transplantation) “It has descended,” he reported. “It has infiltrated,” said the Lobster Man. Mombo considered this. It sounded better than “repotted,” so he wrote it down. With the final vessel secured, Mombo began a little **LST**, gently guiding the specimen outward instead of upward. The official reason was structural control: keep it broad, open, and less likely to become a dark, crowded swamp later in the mission. The Lobster Man approved. “A wide specimen catches more Earth flavor.” “That is science?” “That is authority.” Mombo tightened the last restraint and stared at the green treasure. It had entered its final chamber. It had been set deeper. Its shape was now being guided sideways by Martian hands and questionable logic. The mission had changed. They were no longer merely watching the specimen grow. They were preparing it for the signal. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ “It’s all very simple! Bunny men from Neptune have invaded Mars!” — Mary,

TruTraTri ### Week 7 — The Wrong Map The **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** kept reaching upward. Mombo reported it as an escape attempt. “Then redirect the route,” ordered the Lobster Man. So Mombo used the old **pinch and twist** and a little **LST**, not as gardening, but as navigation. Each bent line became part of a landing map only Martians could misunderstand. By the end of the week, the specimen stood wider and lower. Mombo stared at it. “It looks like a trap.” The Lobster Man leaned closer to the screen. “No, Mombo. It looks like directions.” Somewhere on Mars, the invasion committee cheered too early. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “No, not interested.” — The Dreaded Lobster Man

TruTraTri ### Week 8 — The Moving Map The Earth air turned warm and dry, and the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** began to move like the map itself was alive. Mombo had tied down the route last week. By morning, the route had changed. “Master,” he whispered into the transmitter, “the landing pattern is expanding again.” The Lobster Man studied the screen. “Then the specimen is not showing us where to land.” Mombo blinked inside his helmet. “What is it showing us?” The Lobster Man raised one claw. “Where not to get lost.” That sounded important enough, so Mombo believed it. He returned to the chamber and performed another careful **pinch and twist**, followed by more **LST**, not to punish the plant, but to keep the strange green map open. Every branch became a direction. Every bend became a warning. Every new stretch looked like the specimen was quietly redrawing the mission. By the end of the week, Mombo stood before the wide green pattern and lowered his voice. “It is still growing.” The Lobster Man answered from the speaker. “Good. Then the map is not finished.” Somewhere above Earth, the saucer waited. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “But Lobster Man, there will be plenty of tasty, soft food units to be eaten there.” — King of Mars, *Lobster Man from Mars*

TruTraTri ### Week 9 — Heat Haze Landing Earth shimmered under a brutal heat wave. The saucer came down through the glare like a tin miracle, wobbling between two painted clouds and a very serious sound effect. Mombo climbed out first, helmet fogged, clipboard bent from the heat. Behind him, the Lobster Man stepped into the haze and stared at the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast**. The specimen had pushed through the heat and kept expanding its strange green signal. “It grew through this?” Mombo asked. The Lobster Man raised one claw. “Then it has chosen Earth.” Mombo moved through the chamber with unusual care, clearing a little shadow from the structure and applying another controlled **stem pinch** where the signal tried to climb too freely. The plant shifted under the Martian adjustment and held its shape. For a moment, the whole scene went silent except for the humming AutoPot, the rattling saucer, and the cheap orchestra swelling from nowhere. Mombo looked at the widening green pattern. “It’s marking the landing zone.” The Lobster Man leaned closer. “Then bring the equipment. We start here.” _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “I’m commanding you to go where there is plenty of air...” — King of Mars

TruTraTri Notes: - not sure about the preflower - If you go from picture 3 to 4 you have to imagine the sound of "Jaws" when something is in the water😜😂* - bats everywhere! Reality and all the diaries! - It's a real thing, the movie has some creatures, looking like bats, flying around (s. picture). They are flying alien sea cucumbers from Mars! A very smart and intelligent (not to mention) male! scientist said so. Or the fisherman I am not quite sure anymore... I have to watch the movie again ### Week 10 — The Cucumber Bats The heat stayed over the landing site, heavy enough to make every cheap Martian instrument sweat. Mombo sat beside the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** with a fogged helmet and a receiver full of static. The plant held its wide shape in the warm air, quiet and strange. Then something fluttered behind the saucer. Three green things came out of the haze: cucumber bodies, little bat wings, faces like bad laboratory decisions. **Space Bats.** They circled the AutoPot in crooked loops, clicking above the leaves as if they had been called by something Mombo could not hear yet. Then he saw it. A first small sign in the green structure. **Preflower suspected.** The Space Bats grew louder at once. One landed on the saucer antenna and tapped it with its ridiculous cucumber head. The lights flickered back. Mombo opened the mission log. **SIGNAL SOURCE AWAKENING** Around him, the Space Bats settled like a tiny alien choir. The Earth treasure had spoken first to the vegetables with wings. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Gentlemen, what we have here is an intellectual cucumber.” — Professor Plocostomos

TruTraTri ### Week 11 — The Dry Wind Signal The heat stayed, but the sky had changed its voice. A dry wind moved over the landing site like a giant invisible hair dryer, pushing dust across the saucer legs and rattling the cucumber-shaped **Space Bats** from their hiding places. Mombo found three of them clinging upside down beneath the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast**, squeaking at the young preflower signs like tiny green priests around a forbidden altar. The plant held its wide shape in the hot, dry air. Mombo tightened a few guide-lines and kept the strange map spread open. The signal had to breathe. The branches had to stay apart. The Space Bats clearly agreed, though they expressed it by biting the antenna cable. By sunset, the wind had drawn lines in the dust around the AutoPot. Mombo stared at them for a long time. Then he wrote into the log: **EARTH WIND CONFIRMS LANDING PATTERN** High above, Mars kept leaking air. Down below, the first flavor signal learned how to travel on the wind. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ “You think you can kill an alien space bat with bullets?” — *Lobster Man from Mars*

TruTraTri ### Week 12 — The Supply Problem The heat crept higher again. Mombo found the **Space Bats** hiding under the saucer ramp, chewing on a strip of silver tape and arguing with a loose cable. One of them had stolen a label from the AutoPot. Another was wearing it like a cape. The **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** stood nearby, wide and stubborn in the dry Earth air, while the whole landing site looked less like an invasion base and more like a garage sale after a sandstorm. Mombo chased the cucumber bats in circles until he discovered what they had been building: a tiny supply depot made from dust, broken antenna parts, and one suspiciously important-looking pebble. He stared at it for a long time. Then he wrote the only report that seemed appropriate: **EARTH SUPPLIES COMPROMISED BY VEGETABLE WILDLIFE** Inside the saucer, the Lobster Man read the message and gave the order to lock the snack compartment. The mission was becoming practical now. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “I had a hunch - not an idea, not even a feeling, more like a rabbit punch to the base of the brain.” — Tommy Sledge

TruTraTri ### Week 13 — The Hair-Dryer Wind The heat remained, but now Earth added wind. It came across the landing site like a giant invisible hair dryer, throwing dust against the saucer and pushing the Space Bats sideways through the air like angry little cucumbers with wings. Mombo found the Gorilla Zkittlez Fast with its leaves hanging down, thirsty and tired in the dry storm. The AutoPot chamber hummed bravely beneath it, but the final vessel suddenly felt much smaller than its official Martian name suggested. Mombo ran emergency water calculations on the back of a snack wrapper. The result was shaped like a lobster. He took that as approval. By evening, the storm had filled the saucer ramp with dust, the Space Bats had occupied the antenna again, and the plant finally looked less like a secret weapon and more like a crew member demanding supplies. Mombo opened the mission log. **EARTH WIND IS STEALING MOISTURE. SPECIMEN REQUESTS IMMEDIATE TRIBUTE.** The Lobster Man read the report twice. Then he ordered every available container to be marked: **FOR THE GREEN TREASURE FIRST**. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Their purpose is clear - maybe not to you, but to me.” — Professor Plocostomos,

TruTraTri ### Week 14 — The Roadside Growth The wind had finally stopped trying to sandblast the landing site. Unfortunately, the temperature had taken over. The rocks radiated heat, the road shimmered, and even the saucer looked like it wanted to leave Earth. ----- John slowed the car. Mary had spotted something near the roadside: a strange green shape rising beside the saucer’s dusty cover. The Gorilla Zkittlez Fast had entered stretch. It was reaching upward fast, with the first preflower signs clearly visible in the green structure. John stepped closer. “Maybe it’s part of the saucer.” Mary looked at the AutoPot, the bent scenery, and the plant growing confidently in the middle of the Martian cover-up. “Then why is it growing?” From inside the rocks came a metallic scrape. Both of them froze. The heat shimmered around the cave entrance. The plant stood there quietly, tall enough now to become evidence and healthy enough to look suspicious. John took one step back. Mary took two. By the time the car disappeared down the road, the landing site had its first witnesses. And the Martians had a new problem. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “There will be plenty of tasty, soft food units...” — King of Mars

TruTraTri ### Week 15 — Coffee at Zip’s The heat stayed, and the nights grew warmer too. John and Mary made it to **Zip’s Last Chance Gas & Grub** with dust on the car, dry mouths, and a story that sounded worse every time they tried to explain it. Zip filled their cups with coffee so thick it could patch a saucer. John leaned over the counter. “There was a ship.” Mary added, “And something growing beside it.” Zip frowned. “Ships don’t grow things.” “That one did.” Back at the landing site, the Gorilla Zkittlez Fast stood in the heat with a naturally pleasing structure, needing very little interference now. The flowers were developing nicely, and for the first time the Earth treasure looked less like an experiment and more like a lucky find. At the end of the counter, a man in a bad tie slowly stopped stirring his coffee. Tommy Sledge had been listening. He pulled a napkin closer, wrote **GREEN THING BY SAUCER**, then underlined it like that solved half the case. Mary looked at John. John looked at the door. Zip looked at the coffee pot. Outside, the warm road shimmered. Somewhere beyond it, the Martians were still congratulating themselves on being invisible beside a saucer, a giant plant, and three badly placed rocks. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Nobel Prize, here I come!” — *Lobster Man from Mars*

TruTraTri ### Week 16 — The Tiny Intruder Bureau The heat wave tightened around the landing site. At **Zip’s Last Chance Gas & Grub**, Tommy Sledge listened to Mary and John’s story with the face of a man solving a crime before understanding it. A saucer. A green thing. Something growing beside the rocks. By afternoon, Sledge found the place. The Gorilla Zkittlez Fast stood in the brutal heat with a surprisingly beautiful structure, flowering early and looking far too pleased with itself for something surrounded by dust, machinery, and Martian incompetence. Mombo was busy again, hauling water to the AutoPot reservoir like a condemned space-butler. The final chamber drank faster than the mission planners had promised, which was exactly the kind of detail Mars usually forgot. Beside the plant sat a small container marked **BTI**. Sledge narrowed his eyes. “Bureau of Tiny Intruders,” he whispered. Close enough. Mombo had added it as a precaution against the pests that seemed to get worse every year. Then he cleaned the plant a little: light defoliation, some lollipopping, opening the flowering sites to the sun because the spot was imperfect, the light was already fading, and the mornings were beginning to carry moisture like a bad omen. Maybe he had been a little enthusiastic. The plant seemed unbothered. That annoyed Sledge most of all. He wrote in his notebook: **GREEN THING THRIVING. APE OVERWORKED. WATER IMPORTANT. CASE PROBABLY VEGETABLE.** Back at the landing site, Mombo looked at the early flowers and allowed himself one dangerous thought: This specimen might actually finish before Earth could ruin it. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Is this the end of Mombo?” — The Dreaded Lobster Man

TruTraTri ### Week 17 — The Shovel Chase The heat had stepped back a pace and brought a weapon: dry wind. It moved through the landing site in hot gusts, rattling the saucer, drying the dust, and making the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** drink like Earth itself owed it water. Then Mombo found the damage. A lower branch had snapped badly and hung by almost nothing. He pushed it back into place with both hands. The Lobster Man saw him. “Mombo.” Mombo turned. The Lobster Man already had the little Earth shovel. What followed was officially recorded as emergency discipline, though Tommy Sledge later described it as “one lobster, one ape, and a gardening tool with motive.” By evening, the branch was tucked back where it belonged, and Mombo placed a warning sign beside the plant: **FLOWERS AT WORK** The stretch seemed done. The treasure had entered heavier bloom. Even the Lobster Man stopped swinging. ______________________________________________________________________________________ “Come and get me.” — Mary,

TruTraTri ### Week 18 — Colonel Ankrum and the Flying Pots The nights finally cooled, and Earth celebrated with thunder. By morning, **Colonel Ankrum** stood at the landing site, staring at mud, storm damage, and AutoPots that had been shoved across the ground like furniture in a cheap haunted house. “Weather balloon,” he said. A gust rattled the saucer hatch. “Hostile weather balloon.” Before the worst of it could turn the landing site into scrap, the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** had been tied down with extra support lines. Other plants had already gone over, and some had even been pushed around in their AutoPots by the storm. Then came the cleanup: a heavy defoliation to reduce risk, open the structure, and keep the next disaster from finding too many places to hide. The broken lower branch still dangled from nowhere in particular. Alive. Flowering. Annoyingly committed. Tommy Sledge watched from under a wet hat and wrote in his notebook: **BRANCH HAS NO ALIBI. CONTINUES LIVING ANYWAY.** Thunder rolled over the landing site. The plant held. Colonel Ankrum pointed at it. “Classified.” ______________________________________________________________________________ “Skeletons pave its way...” — *Lobster Man from Mars* poster tagline

TruTraTri ### Week 19 — The Toaster Theory The weather had become indecisive again: warm sun, cooler nights, rain, wind and sudden gusts all taking turns over the landing site. Professor Plocostomos arrived with Colonel Ankrum carrying a magnifying glass, a battered toaster and the calm confidence of a man who had already solved the problem before seeing it. The Gorilla Zkittlez Fast was well into flower now and needed little more than a few careful cuts. Plocostomos inspected one bud, then the soil, then opened the toaster and peered inside as if all three belonged to the same branch of science. Ankrum watched him for a while. “Professor?” “Please. I am thinking.” Behind three badly placed rocks, Mombo observed them through binoculars. He had expected soldiers. Scientists were manageable. A scientist with breakfast equipment was something else. Plocostomos placed the toaster beside the plant, turned one dial and waited. A slice of bread popped out. Ankrum stared at it. Plocostomos nodded slowly. “Exactly.” Mombo lowered the binoculars. There were no Martian instructions for this. Then the Professor suddenly pointed toward the rocks. Mombo disappeared into the saucer so fast he left the binoculars behind. Ankrum picked them up. “Evidence?” Plocostomos took the toast from his hat. “Breakfast.” __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Remember, once you are off Mars there is no law that says you can't eat food without shells.” — King of Mars

TruTraTri ### Week 20 — Waiting for Something Earth spent the week changing costumes: summer sun, cold nights, rain, wind, then summer again. At the landing site, the **Gorilla Zkittlez Fast** had become harder to hide. The branches were stiffening under developing flowers, trichomes were spreading, and the smell now travelled farther than the three useless rocks ever could. Professor Plocostomos and Colonel Ankrum watched from the ridge. Down below, Mombo made a few careful adjustments to the plant, added another precautionary dose of **BTI**, and disappeared into the saucer. Tommy Sledge picked up the empty packet. “Bureau of Tiny Intruders.” Ankrum sighed. “We’ve been through this.” Plocostomos barely listened. He was watching the Lobster Man. The Martian commander had stepped from the saucer, inspected the flowering plant for several long seconds, then returned inside without touching it. Plocostomos suddenly smiled. “They’re waiting.” “For what?” He pointed at the flowers. “For that thing to finish.” Sledge looked at his BTI packet. “So the tiny intruders aren’t involved?” Nobody answered him. Inside the saucer, the Lobster Man crossed another Earth day off the calendar. The humans finally knew what mattered. They still had no idea what he planned to do with it. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “I don't know if this menace is from outer space or Russia. But either way, it's the enemy.” — Colonel Ankrum, *Lobster Man from Mars*

TruTraTri Other plants: https://growdiaries.com/diaries/320251-grow-journal-by-trutratri https://growdiaries.com/diaries/320247-grow-journal-by-trutratri ### Week 21 — The Hot Springs Plan Autumn finally reached the landing site. Sun, wind and drizzle traded places during the day, while the nights turned properly cold and filled the ground with thick fog. The Gorilla Zkittlez Fast kept bulking and slowly moving toward maturity. Its scent had grown strong enough that Mombo started blaming the fog. Across the ridge, Professor Plocostomos unfolded a map across the hood of Colonel Ankrum’s jeep. “We know they’re waiting for the plant.” Ankrum nodded. “So we wait too?” The Professor circled a place on the map. ---------------------------------------------------- **THROCKMORTON ESTATE — HOT SPRINGS** ---------------------------------------------------- Ankrum stared at him. “For the plant?” Plocostomos folded the map. “For the lobster.” That evening, Mr. Throckmorton received a very strange telephone call asking whether his haunted mansion was available for “scientific purposes". He looked around at the cobwebs, the false teeth, and the boiling springs outside. “Finally,” he muttered. Back at the landing site, the fog swallowed the saucer almost completely. For once, the three badly placed rocks were doing an excellent job. ____________________________________________________________________________________ “Look at the big picture.” — Colonel Ankrum

TruTraTri ### Week 22 — The Haunted Reservation At the landing site, the Gorilla Zkittlez Fast was finally being left alone to ripen. The days still felt like summer. At night, temperatures dropped toward frost and thick fog crawled between the rocks. Soon it would be worth checking the trichomes. Elsewhere, Professor Plocostomos, Mary and John arrived at Throckmorton Mansion. Mr. Throckmorton opened the door. “You said this was a scientific visit.” “It is.” He looked past them toward the steaming hot springs. “How many guests?” “One.” “Human?” Plocostomos thought about it. “Mostly shell.” Throckmorton opened his reservation book. Under *SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS*, the Professor wrote: *BOILING WATER. LARGE TOWELS. NO BUTTER.* Outside, the fog rolled over the estate. Back at the landing site, the Lobster Man crossed another day off the calendar. His treasure was ripening. His reservation was ready. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Is this the end of Mombo?” — The Dreaded Lobster Man

TruTraTri _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ****HARVEST***** First mold spots, rain forecast..... Harvest update after drying, curing or smoking. Thx for reading or watching 💚 Original Movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yB6HKl_LkoM I highly recommend watching it! 😜💚 _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ### Week 23 — Boil the Lobster The first mold spots appeared just as the forecast announced rain. For the Lobster Man, weeks of waiting suddenly became a deadline. “Tonight. We take the Earth treasure.” Unfortunately, Professor Plocostomos had also reached a conclusion. After consulting lobster expertise, several questionable scientific principles and one very educational cooking program, his plan had become beautifully simple: *Lobsters do poorly in boiling water.* So the Earth treasure was supposedly moved to **Throckmorton Mansion**, conveniently surrounded by hot springs. The Lobster Man arrived immediately. Colonel Ankrum ruined the trap almost immediately afterward by shelling the house. What followed was less a military operation than a screaming chase through steam, rubble and extremely hot water. The Lobster Man escaped the mansion. He did not escape Old Faithful. One enormous blast of boiling water later, the invasion ended with the unmistakable smell of defeated seafood. Mombo saw the steam cloud, looked toward Mars, and quietly stole the saucer. Back at the landing site, Mary and John reached the Gorilla Zkittlez Fast before the rain and mold could take more of it. The green treasure stayed on Earth. Mars got no plant, no miracle cure, and no Lobster Man. Earth won. Mostly by cooking dinner. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “It means that either he escaped, or he walked backwards from the horizon to commit suicide in this bonfire.” — Tommy Sledge