From the Ira Idlebaum novel, Forlorn. Excerpt from Chapter One

When the Cmmdr walked in the kitchen around 2 PM , he encountered the Ensign, who was having an argument of some kind on his cellphone. The Rhode Island-sized loser sat down at the table, not meaning to eavesdrop, but curious nevertheless.
“You’re not listening to me … miss, you’re just not… I know, but they contribute both starch and dietary fiber to the diet. Christ, they have a higher concentration of well-balanced protein than any other cereal, a greater potential to provide … you’re missing the point… don’t tell me about soluble fiber! Jesus, lady… oh really? Are you aware that oats contain phytochemicals - plant chemicals if you don’t know what that means – chemicals that have been associated with protection from chronic disease? The point is you’re dropping the ball- hello? Hello?”
“Hung up?” asked the Cmmdr.
“Yes.”
“Who was it?”
“No one. This rep for the Secretary of Agriculture.”
“Huh?”
“They’re just not doing enough in my opinion to promote oats,” the Ensign sighed as he sat down.
“What’s that?” asked the Cmmdr, pointing at the Ensign’s face.
“What?”
“That weird green thing, under you ear.”
The Ensign felt under his ear, where he found and plucked off a slender coil of what seemed to be vegetation of some kind. He looked at it in puzzlement.
“There’s another one,” exclaimed the Cmmdr, “on your chin!”
Sure enough, peeking from beneath his beard was another green thread, like a small stalk of some kind.
The Cmmdr blanched, and backed up in his chair.
“What,” asked the Ensign, alarmed.
“They’re sprouts. You’ve got oat sprouts growing out of you. Holy fuck!”
But the Ensign seemed oddly serene, and pulled the little green tendril from his chin and gazed at it tenderly. He rubbed it around between his thumb and forefinger, and then, with an elegant toss, popped it in his mouth. He smiled at the Cmmdr. “Worse things could happen.”