I donâ€™t know about all youse pan-handlers but Iâ€™m gettinâ€™ pretty sick an tired of all them microgreens. What the hellâ€™s all the get up over â€˜em anyways? When I sit down with Lucy, my trusty old mule, ta enjoy me a fine steak or scallop I donâ€™t need no stinking shrubbery all over â€˜em. And jest what the hell are they anyways? Looks like godblammit clovers or somethinâ€™. I donâ€™t need no clovers in my supper. Clovers is for leprechauns. I mean, ifâ€™n yer gonna put somethinâ€™ on my grub why not make it a nice bÃ©chamel? Thatâ€™s betterâ€™n them weeds, ainâ€™t it? Heck, even some spicy aioli would do me jest fine. Anyways, thatâ€™s all fer now. Lucyâ€™s braying up something fierce and I gots to go soothe â€˜er. Hold on there Lucy, Iâ€™m a cominâ€™.