The Cabbage Man stood in front of the compost pile staring at all of his ruined cabbages. He'd been coming here a lot in the past few days. Ever since that terrorist came into Ba Sing Se. The Cabbage Man was convinced that that stupid air nomad and his posse of water tribe rejects were stalking him; following him from city to city with the malignant intent of destroying his cabbages.

Unfortunately, the magistrate of Ba Sing Se didn't see it that way. Indeed, he had refused to even hear the complaint of the Cabbage Man. His sympathetic secretary had said that, even if his complaint had been heard, there was little they could do since laws pertaining to destruction of property by air nomads or any other bender was tantamount to a natural disaster. And besides, his food stall insurance didn't cover destruction by bender since it was so common these days.

"Stupid air nomad," the Cabbage Man wept.

A whipping of the wind stirred up the potent smell of rotting cabbage and tears came to the eyes of the Cabbage Man. Not all of them were from the acrid stench.

Through the blur of his tears, the steam from the compost pile seemed to condense into an almost human shape. The Cabbage Man blinked and swiped a hand across his eyes. The steam continued to coalesce. One ghostly arm reached out towards him and he stumbled away, tripping over his feet and landing squarely in a puddle of liquified vegetables.

In between his labored breaths, the Cabbage Man would have sworn he heard some sort of whispering coming from the apparition. The hisses were on the brink of being words and he leaned closer in spite of himself, trying to understand them.

As the ghost became more solid, the hisses grew more distinguishable. "Air nomadssssssssssstink. Nassssssssty air nomadsssssss," it hissed. The being solidified further into a humanoid figure with long hair that streamed upwards and dissipated. The face shifted in the updrafts of hot air, its expression melting into variations of distaste. It crossed its smoky arms. "Hate air nomadsssss," it hissed again. Its voice was neither male nor female, but rather something in between.

"Me too," said the Cabbage Man.

The figure raised its hands and ran wispy fingers through its swaying hair. "It'sssss good they have all gone." It's expression was one of contentment. "Killed by the fire benderssss. Mmmmmssssssuch steam that day from the ssssssnowmelt on the mountains."

"If only they were all gone," said the Cabbage Man, "One of their brats is still running around wreaking havoc on my poor cabbages. I swear he follows me from city to city."

The wispy being snapped its body forward to the very edge of the compost pile, leaning out and over the Cabbage Man. "One remainsssss?!" It's hands roamed its body, fluttering agitatedly. "What of the fire bendersss? Why do they not exssssterminate him?"

The Cabbage Man had jerked backwards at the advance of the being, again landing in the puddle of liquified cabbage.

"I -- I don't know!" the Cabbage Man said, "I don't think they can catch him!"

The spirit retreated into the middle of the compost heap. "Incompetent foolsssss. They can do nothing right..." The spirit's face turned towards the Cabbage Man and variations of contemplation flickered and twisted across its face. "I mussssst take matterssss into my own handsssss..." The spirit glanced around, it's gaze landing on a large wooden splinter laying at the edge of the compost pile. Swirling closer, it attempted to grasp the splinter, but its wispy hands passed around it. A low wail came from the spirit.

"You can't touch things?" The Cabbage Man asked. The spirit shrugged, still staring at the splinter. The Cabbage Man scooted a little closer. "What is your name?"

"Lan," the spirit sighed.

"Lan," said the Cabbage Man, "I will be your hands if you will be my power."

Lan laughed, it's smoky form doubling over.

"What?" said the Cabbage Man.

"That issssssss a very ssssssseriousssssss thing to say for a cabbage salesman."

The Cabbage Man stretched out his hand to the spirit. Revenge was finally in his grasp. The judicial system wouldn't help him. The insurance companies wouldn't help him. Not even the Avatar -- may he rest in peace -- would help him.

Lan glanced at his outstretched hand, then back at the Cabbage Man. "You do not jesssssst? You would give yourssssssself to me?"

The Cabbage Man nodded. "Anything to get rid of that air bending brat. Anything to save my business. I can't afford another cart crash!" He jerked his arm impatiently. "Please."

Lan glanced at his hand again. "For vengeanccccccce?"

The Cabbage Man nodded firmly. "For vengeance."

Lan's expression flickered through several variations of intoxicating glee as it reached out a small wispy arm. The Cabbage Man watched as the ephemeral steam, hot and wet, made contact with his hand and went inside him. Suddenly he was hot, feeling like he was drowning. He gritted his teeth. Anything to get that brat.

The next day, a small Earth Kingdom child found the body of an old man in the alley behind the produce market. When the coroner of lower Ba Sing Se opened up the old man's mouth, he found his entire respiratory system had been stuffed with rotting cabbage, still steaming and rancid.

"What a terrible way to die," the coroner said as he put the sheet back over the man's face.