The Spud Sisters

A new business notion turns into a worldwide spiritual sensation. Next... world domination

- A short story by Pete Hartley

If we sell out, we'll buy some more," said Sister Charlotte. "I hope we do, but we don't want to over-speculate. We'll only be selling one spud at a time.

Sister Desiree looked dubious. "Will people really buy just a single spud?"

Charlotte nodded slowly. "They will when they know what the Spud Sisters' spuds can do."

"Then we will be rich!" declared Sister Maris Piper.

"No," said Sister Charlotte. "We are not doing this for money. We are on a mission. World domination. We are here to prove our point."

"Remind me of our point," said Sister Desiree.

"That all you need, to change the habits of a lifetime, is a potato."

"Shall we change into our new habits now?" asked Sister Maris Piper, unwrapping the beige nuns' outfits they had made.

Charlotte shook her head. "First, we need a caravan."

They found a small dilapidated caravan for five hundred pounds, plus a delivery fee.

"Stuff that," said Sister Charlotte. "We'll deliver it ourselves."

Which they did, by persuading the farmer from whom they promised to buy all their spuds. He towed it to the market square. They paid for their market licence, and painted their slogan on the side of their van: 'The Spud Sisters. Potatoes with a personality. Every one spiritually special.

They propped open the window, and set up the 'ten pounds per pomme de terre' sign.

"Ten quid?" declared the first potential punter in his plaster-splattered overall. "What you serving 'em with? Caviar?"

"We don't serve them with anything," said Sister Desiree. "It's just for the potato."

"How you cookin' 'em?"

"We don't cook them," said Sister Maris Piper.

"And neither must you," said Sister Charlotte. "If you cook them, you'll kill them. You mustn't kill them. Every spud has a soul."