But Essie, of course, was argumentative. “Giant sausage?” she said, her nose cast disgustedly skyward. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“You realize it’s like the fourth time this month we’ve had giant sausage, right?”

“Essie, be reasonable. It’s free meat!”

Essie took two wooden spoons off the drying rack. It was an old trick of hers; toss one up in the air to distract Willow, then throw the other one right at the soft, fleshy part of Willow’s stomach. Man, oh man, did Willow hate that trick.

“It’s free meat because you’re too lazy to hunt!” said Essie. Spoon number one was launched.

Willow couldn’t help it. He looked up. “Too lazy?” he said, as spoon number two smacked him in the gut.

“That’s right, you bum!”

“Ow!” said Willow. “That hurt!”

“Good!”

“Wait, you don’t consider planting these giant vines a form of hunting?”

“I consider it laziness and sloth!” said Essie. “And just who under these low-hanging clouds do you think is going to fix our twain-split fence? Can I ask you that?”

Willow sighed.