They grow bugs big in Rhode IslandTouring the Ocean State

Even though Spud's quest for his roots didn't exactly go as planned, the tater was bent on making the most of his time down in Rhode Island. The first thing he did was pick up a tour guide that would lead him to the Ocean State's most desirable attractions. At the top of the list in the capital of Providence was the home of  the world's largest termite.

This fella measures a staggering 58 feet long and was found nibbling away at the rooftop of New England Pest Control. So much for their extermination business, as the big blue bug chomped his way inside shortly after this shot was taken. Spud was just happy it was a termite and not a potato bug.

Spud arrives at the John Brown House - home to the man eating treeNext stop on his list was the Rhode Island Historical Society nestled in the John Brown House in Providence. Never a big fan of museums, the John Brown House stored something infinitely more interesting to Spud than watercolour paintings: a man-eating tree.

Rhode Island's founder and father of democracy, Roger Williams, was given a non descript burial at his farm beneath an old apple tree in the 1600's. In later years, it was felt that this great man should be given a proper burial and memorial, so the Historical Society commenced to exhume his body. To their horror, they would find that the apple tree's roots had entered the coffin and 'consumed' the body - bones and all. In the cellar of the John Brown House, lay part of the carnivorous root.

AAAGGH!!The keepers of the root live with it in constant fear - never knowing when it will resume it's voracious appetite for flesh. Not one to back down from dangerous situations, Spud climbed down the stairs into the dark, musty cellar to see the deciduous devourer.

It didn't take long before the keeper's fears were realized when the root sprang out from its dormant state and clasped around the tuber in a suffocating grip. Sour cream squeezed out of Spud's holes as the tentacles of the tree squeezed tighter and tighter. The curators acted quick and threw a hunk of raw meat over in the corner to distract the strangling rhizome. Seeing the tasty treat, the tree loosened his grip on the wheezing potato and slithered across the floor to the glistening beef. Still dazed, Spud managed to regroup himself enough to escape the dark dungeon of the John Brown House.  

That was about as much excitement as one potato could take for such a tiny state.




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