“At the front window was something that looked like a machine gun with a cluster of barrels. “Rocket launcher?” he wondered aloud.
“Nope, nope! Potatoes. Ella doesn't like potatoes.”
“Ella! Where are the others?”
“Roof. Ogre-watching. Ella doesn't like ogres. Potatoes.”
Potatoes? Frank didn't understand until he swiveled the machine gun around. Its eight barrels were loaded with spuds. At the base of the gun, a basket was filled with more edible ammunition…
“They have cannonballs,” Frank said, “and we have a potato gun.”
“Starch,” Ella said thoughtfully. “Starch is bad for ogres.”