Spitting Plants

You've always been my favorite nephew — young and spry! Otto, my old bones rattle. I can hardly care for the Lush Pasture anymore... a shame! Such sprawling fields, ripe and bountiful! Perfect for a young lad like yourself. I will leave this peaceful homestead in your caring hands!

These creeping sprouts have entirely wrecked my yard!! They burst through the soil faster than I can cut them down! Vile things, spitting bile and brine! All the fields rot, and the decay spreads ever deeper... There's no saving this pasture! Blast it all! I'll pass this problem on to Otto, that foolish fledgling, and start anew elsewhere. Never liked him much anyway... snotty brat.