Farmer Lomann was once a happy farmer, pleased with his prosperous crops, personable to anyone who wandered through. Bushels and bushels of every vegetable you could imagine, sold by the roadside to travelers from near and far. Every night he would retire to his shack, eager to wake up again to empty his baskets full of vegetables, and fill them with piles of money. Many a please and thank you were transacted by the entrance to Lomann Farms, and Farmer Lomann was revered as the top farmer in the region.

For a time, he handled his success in stride, proud of all he had accomplished. But soon his greed and arrogance got the best of him. Harmless quips toward customers who tried to haggle turned into outright rudeness. Friendly knocks at the door by passersby looking for fresh veggies warranted an unpleasant tirade of vulgarity instead of the usual, "If you wouldn’t mind, could you try back tomorrow morning?" Farmer Lomann changed all right, but no one knew just how much he was about to change — all because of his radishes.