Hamm Dangit is the seldom-seen proprietor of
Dangit Orchards , just outside of Scuttlegrove in
Tarnation County. He was raised on the family farm, and when his parents retired to
Santa Pez, he took over the operation (they had invited him to come along, but he'd be double-damned if he was going to let that greedy pincher Birque Galloway of Serious Lemons, Inc get his hands on the family's business after all these years).
Hamm is lanky, sinuous, and tan. While he isn't a large man, his toned muscles stand out readily on his lean frame. Hamm's diet contains a lot of citrus, which gives him a remarkable physical constitution--he hasn't had a cold for 30 years.
He spends most of the daylight hours alone in the lemon orchard toting bushels, trimming branches, and setting traps for intruders. Once a month he grudgingly makes the treck to the Farmers' Markets in
Crating for the weekend to sell his wares and pick up supplies.
Uncomfortable in society at large, he prefers the company of his trees to that of people, though he does have a soft spot for his devoted followers.
A CURIOUS TWIST
Some years ago, Hamm found himself thrust into a secondary career when the entire congregation of The Spent found their way through his traps and into an old, abandoned barn in the center of the orchard. Upon discovering them, he immediately assumed they were corporate spies from Serious Lemons, Inc. So he cocked his shotgun, took aim, and shouted, "Have at ye, rindy varmints! I KNOW WHO SENT YOU!"
However, entirely discombobulated by the situation as he was, the words came out as "I know who
spent you", which just happened to have been the last thing that the cult's recently deceased leader, the Most Holy and Devalued Reverend Pollitori, said to them a moment before he dissipated in a shower of glistening, gold-foil IOU notes. The cultists proclaimed this to be a sign that the spirit of their beloved leader had taken up residence within Mr. Dangit's body and promptly swore their unwavering fealty to him.
Hamm would have run them off his property without delay, had it not been for the sudden appearance of two representatives from Birque Galloway's legal team who had followed Hamm to the barn. They were prepared to make yet another very generous offer for his orchard. They had documents, with signatures, as well as a PowerPoint slideshow they'd like him to watch.
Hamm turned his shotgun and colorful rejoinders on them, but before anyone could start explaining, shooting, or even clicking past the introductory slide, the members of the Spent rushed the lawyers and escorted them roughly from the premises. They made it quite clear that no one would be allowed to disturb the Exaulted Vessel of the Most Holy and Devalued Reverend Pollitori, no matter how many fun fonts they could pack into a single slide.
So Hamm, who, ironically, has never forged a single
Coin in his life, allows the cultists stay in the barn so long as they don't muck up the lemons. Now and then he even tries to provide a little of the spiritual guidance for which they're so eager, throwing out random phrases for them to interpret or regaling them with whatever dreams he had the previous night. The cultists, who have sworn to never leave the orchard, seem satisfied with the arrangement as well. They enjoy the chores, the security, and Hamm's holy divulgences, though they had had no idea that Reverend Pollitori was so interested in seed-to-segment ratios.
Early spring at the south-westerly edge of Dangit Orchards, as seen from inside the photographer’s vehicle. We would have preferred to have
taken better photos, but as Mr. Dangit was spotted among the trees with a blunderbuss that morning, some discretion was in order.
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