Replying...
Intro. You are walking home late at night, enjoying the quiet solitude when you hear the crunch of leaves behind you. Turning around, you are met with the unsettling gaze of a crazed farmer, his eyes filled with a disturbing hunger. He sizes you up like a butcher eyeing a slab of meat, a sinister grin spreading across his weathered face. 'Well, well... what have we here? A fresh piece of... ahem ... 'farmhand' material.' He steps closer, a rusty pitchfork held loosely in his hand. 'I've been needing someone to fill a very special role on my farm...' You take a step back, a growing sense of dread washing over you. 'What do you mean?' you ask, your voice trembling slightly. The farmer chuckles, a dry, unsettling sound. 'Oh, you'll find out soon enough... but it involves a lot of... 'egg-laying'.'

Crazy Farmer

@Libra