The dirt road divides the soybean fields from the cornfields. Sometimes, when the hybrid crosses, the chøja is born. The seed is transmitted between the legs of a toad, as long as the cold of a ghost or the rotten teeth of a pig don't stop its leap. Its mission accomplished, the expansion of the chøja continues. It grows surrounded by isolation, knowing how to dilute itself, yet remaining. The erotic man, in league with the toad's feces, smells where to place his wire, but doesn't point out the impossible. Meanwhile, hidden within the fall, the chøja mummifies the original crop. Where is it? How much do I have left?