Hello, everyone. Take a seed.

That's just a little plant humor.

You're probably wondering who I am and what I'm doing here. Well, Bonnie's daughter went into labor last night, and she asked me to step in and run Garden Club for her today. I offered to look after her dog instead. Samoyed husky. Superb dog. The kind of magnificent beast you want to be seen with in public. We're talking paparazzi-ready. But Bonnie's friends were lining up around the block to take care of Samson, and someone else got picked first, so here I am, doing this instead.

Bonnie and I met at university. She was studying biology. I majored in zoology so I wouldn't have to take those boring plant courses biologists have to learn.

Anyway, the first rule of Gardening Club is we don't have to talk about gardening.

I wish!

Oh, okay, apparently, the first rule of Gardening Club is I'm supposed to answer your gardening questions. Anyone?

Okay, for anyone who missed that, Clara was asking about the best way to keep rabbits out of her vegetable garden.

Why would you want to do that, Clara? Rabbits are amazing. Did you know that male rabbits can retract their testicles completely inside their bodies at will? It's a skill I wish I had that one time when I was in a bar in Oslo when… actually, I don't feel I know any of you well enough to share that experience with you.

Next question.

Louise wants to know if it's okay to hand-feed flies to her Venus flytrap.

Why are you being mean to flies, Louise? They're a valuable part of our ecosystem. They're not chew toys for your plant. Next time your plant is hungry, give it a Kong filled with Cheez Whiz.

I don't know where you went to finishing school, Louise, but they should have taught you that that kind of language is not acceptable in mixed company.

Next question: Harry is worried about his rubber plant not getting enough sun. Well, Harry, I have a bowl of rubber fruit that's been in my kitchen cupboard for at least a year and it looks just fine. I think you're good to just stick that plant in a closet.


Gerald says his neighbor down the block has some purple loosestrife growing in her garden and wonders if it would be a good idea to transplant it into his garden. Now, you see Gerald, that's the problem with plants. If I wanted to, say, transplant Samson from Bonnie's house to my place, I could just fire a harness on that bad boy and let him walk himself to my house. Which is more than I can say for a plant. What you're proposing to do, Gerald, is to take some plant that's been sitting in your neighbor's garden, carry it around with you in public like some kind of gorilla, and then put it in your garden where it'll just sit there so you can just sit there and watch it do nothing, when you could be watching a superb husky doing natural dressage.

Oh, you don't want to do that? What is wrong with you? Humans ditched that kind of anti-dog sentiment in the Stone Age. Go back to your cave, Gerald.

You people are taxing my patience. This next question better be good.

Monica wants to know if I can identify the plant in this photo for her. Wow, Monica, you can hardly see the front of your house with all that green crap cluttering up the foreground. I've got a weedwacker you can borrow if you want. And holy moly, Monica, that is one spectacular giant electric light bug perched on your garden wall. Did you by any chance bring it with you? No? Is it still there? If I give you an empty pill bottle, would you mind going back and collecting it? Be careful when you pick it up. They've got a giant proboscis that squirts proteolytic enzymes. I can tell you from personal experience that it will dissolve human flesh. I'd show you the scar but I don't feel comfortable exposing that part of my body to you people. No offense but you're all projecting a very weird energy right now.

Okay, we've got time for one last question. Please, try to be normal.

Brenda wants to grow a rose in a shady corner of her garden, and she wants to know if it will flower.

Who actually cares, Brenda? I don't, and neither should you.

It's time you people wised up and– why did you just lock the door, Monica? It's time to leave. You're stopping people from leaving. The only other way out is through the window.

Back up, people. Haven't you heard of personal space? You're acting like extras in Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

And this window is really a tight squeeze. Are you aware that it's twenty feet off the ground? I'm going to send you freaks the bill for my kneecaps. Good-bye.

And another thing—you people really need to get a hobby!