Porceen

You tear open a new sack of potatoes and out pops the porceen... the spudly skinned wrinkled queen of spudland. You try to run but running doesn’t work! She will keep you up all night and you’ll wake up not knowing where you came from. However you’ll have the keys to a Bentley in one hand and between your toes will lie the sands of the vast seas. All hail the spud queeeeeeeeen!