By P.P.Razzi

A historical and groundbreaking operation has been performed last week, in which one of the Disc's most prominent surgeons set right what nature botched up. The Green Slab brings you an exclusive behind the screens coverage of the events that took place and talks to the people involved.

Ever since his early teens, mister Russet Burbank has felt trapped inside his body. In his own words, "it was as if my skin didn’t fit. I had silly floppy bits that moved about without aim and senses which bombarded me with info that I couldn't deal with. Outwardly I was a healthy young man, but inside I knew it was all wrong."

An old iconograph shows the image of a strapping young lad outside an ordinary terraced house somewhere down Esoteric Street in southeast Ankh-Morpork. "I must have been around 14 there", Russet ponders as he idly leaves through the photo album. "It doesn't show, but I was already really struggling with my identity at the time. Often I would go to stand in front of a mirror and imagine myself in my true form, trying to see the real me. And sometimes, when my parents were away, I would dress up and walk around the house pretending that I was truly changed. And when I was old enough to live on my own, I moved to a secluded cottage on the outskirts of Scrogden, where I could endulge myself in fantasising about it unhindered by nosy onlookers."

"Hot diggery, it broke yer heart ev'ry time ye saw him out there in the fields”, a Scrogden local confides to our reporter. "Ev'ry year, from when the first sprouts appeared until they were harvested, he would go an' sit with dem lot at least twice a week, trying ter make some sort of contact. But they ne'er even so much as acknowledged his presence. For sure, the folks 'ere thought he was a bit of a nutter, but they all felt sorry fer him I tell ya."

"In a way those times were even harder", Russet recounts. "At least in Ankh-Morpork I was only confronted with my real kinsmen at the local diner or in vegetable shops, but in Scrogden they were everywhere. Every year when they perked their little tops out of the ground a stab of anguish would rush through my soul, and I felt compelled to go out there and try to mingle. But of course to them I was the enemy, one of those horrible two-legged giants who would come round once a year to pull them by their hair out of the soil, toss them in a big bag and savagely butcher them. I must confess at times I despised humans too, if you consider the gruesomeness of such deeds."

When our reporter confronts the owner of the field with Russet's views, he nods agreeingly. "I ne'er really thought about it until mister Burbank moved into the area", Jack O'Tater confesses. His family has cultivated potatoes for five generations. "It ne'er even occurred to me that dey have feelings an' stuff too, ya know. Me family has been growin' potatoes for as long as I can remember, but I ne'er got the idea that dey minded very much. No complaints or lawsuits or anythin'. So when someone suddenly says that potatoes have feelings too, it sure is an eye-opener." O'Tater has since that time adopted a potato-friendly cultivation and harvesting strategy, and several local farmers have followed suit. "It is a bit of an investment, but it makes me sleep better at night an' the people say me taters taste much better than dem traditional lot. By doin' a bit of soil control and careful harvesting you show the little buggers that you care, and it sure pays off. We now sell the biggest an' the best crop of dem all!"

For a while things seem to settle as Russet falls in love with a village girl and marries her the next year. His trips to the potato fields cease almost completely and his reclusive lifestyle makes way for an active involvement in the Scrogden community. The villagers now get to know Russet as an amiable and pleasant guy who is always ready to lend a hand. "It was quite a change", Martha Mingles, leading member of the Scrogden Wicker Basket Society, remembers. "It turned out that that odd fellow was actually a very entertaining chap and, incidentally, quite the gifted basket weaver too. And his wife Linda is a lovely woman. Though she can get rather unpleasant when people make funny remarks about her turnip-like appearance."

Although apparently having come to terms with his life as a man, Russet explains that his feelings of discomfort throughout this period never left him. Unknown to his wife, a few months after the wedding Russet begins to sneak out of the house during the night and camp out in the potato fields until early dawn. He even goes so far at times as to dig himself in the soil partly. On one occasion, after a heavy rainfall, he nearly gets stuck in the ground completely and is almost discovered by the villagers. "It was a very scary moment", Russet relates. "My legs were sucked in tightly and there was no way that I could pull myself free. Dawn broke and I already saw people leaving their houses in the distance, when I finally managed to scrape enough of the mud away to pull one leg free. I remember rushing home frantically. If Linda would ever find out she would be heart-broken. Fortunately she was still asleep when I got home. But I knew then that I could not keep this up. It was not fair to her or to myself. That’s when I decided to tell her about my situation."

Linda naturally is quite shocked at first, but after some extensive talks and a few trips to the potato fields she slowly comes to grips with her husband's unusual conducts. "Obviously it is very unsettling at first to learn that your husband wants to be a potato, but I know now that this is what he has always wanted and I fully support him all the way", she nods assuringly. Russet smiles and adds: "Linda indeed is a huge support to me. I could never have gone through with it without her. Some people think it has gotten a bit out of hand, but I feel better than ever now and I am grateful every day that I was offered this amazing opportunity."

Doctor Von Cutter, one of Ankh-Morpork's leading surgeons and renowned Discwide for his craftmanship, vividly remembers Russet and his wife visiting him for the first time. "Ze man vas astonishingly determined. He knew exactly vot he vanted and he vas willing to take ze risks that such unorthodox surgeries entail. Some people say that I should have refused ze job on ethical grounds, but I think that is folly. Mister Burbank vas an emotionally wery distressed individual und he clearly vas totally out of place in his man-beink. Und of course every surgeon vould give up both hands to be able to perform a unique und groundbreakink operation like that! Obviously. Vell. Not as such, of course. I mean, it vould be rather difficult to perform surgery vithout ze hands. But metaphorically speakink. Or both feet. You could do surgery without feet. Though you vould probably have to sit down during ze work. Which is a bit inconvenient. Also for ze view on ze victi... patient. But I digress. I accepted ze challenge und I must say ze result ist wunderbar!"

Russet agrees wholeheartedly. "I have never felt better. Sure, at first it was a bit of getting used to. You notice that over the years you have come to rely on your limbs quite heavily and when they are suddenly gone it takes a bit of adapting. The artificial peel graft used to itch a lot at first as well. And I have to avoid rainy weather, because everything gets a bit smelly and it can start to rot in places. But Linda and I have fit up a corner of the drawing room now to suit my needs. We placed a big pot there, filled with moist acidic soil, where I can look out of the window during the day. In the evening she repots me to our bedroom. In truth, I have never felt more at peace with myself."

And the general opinion in the neighbourhood? "Good on him, I say!" most locals agree. "It takes a bit of getting used to, but in the end he's still our Russet and he made our village famous. Everyone wants to see the man-potato in the flesh... Well, peel... Good fer business an' stuff. Must be tough on his wife though, livin' with a vegetable. But she holds herself well."

As a concluding remark, Russet Burbank and his wife have asked the Green Slab to communicate to our readers that although they have greatly enjoyed the initial interest from far and wide, they are currently longing for some rest and privacy. The countless people queueing outside the house are blocking the view and doing irrepairable damage to the lawn. They would also like to stress, after repeated inquiries, that there is no chance whatsoever of mister Burbank offering himself for consumption in any forseeable future. We will keep you updated on any possible future developments.