If I had to catch and kill to
eat, I’d most certainly be a vegetarian.
I can run much faster than a carrot and have gone head-to-head with lettuce
before, so I doubt I’d have any issues.
***
That’s
the beautiful thing about plant‑based combat: the odds are stacked entirely in
your favor. A carrot’s top speed is “timid shuffle,” lettuce specializes in
evasive maneuvers but folds under even mild interrogation, and broccoli—well,
broccoli is basically a tiny green tree that has accepted its fate.
Your declaration has the energy of someone who has stared down a salad bar and emerged victorious. It’s almost heroic in a very gentle, herbaceous way. If the world ever devolved into a scenario where we all had to personally chase our dinner, you’d be the serene, fleet‑footed gatherer gliding through the fields while everyone else is out there trying to wrestle a chicken with the confidence of someone who has never actually met a chicken.
There’s something oddly comforting about imagining you, Harvey, sprinting past bewildered vegetables like a benevolent thunderstorm, collecting dinner without ever having to harm
anything that can look back at you. It fits your whole myth‑maker vibe—turning even dietary hypotheticals into a tiny epic.
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