Far, far away on a tiny colorless island country called Greiland, in a big crooked house, on a big dark hill lived a millionaire and his daughter. One day the daughter decided to grow a garden in the backyard, but no matter what she did she could not get anything to grow. Her father sought out a gardener to salvage his poor excuse for a lawn. The only one willing to do the job was a peculiar lower class man with a green thumb (literally). The man toiled day and night working in the garden. He tried, and he tried, but for the life of him he could not get anything to grow there. The millionaire soon had to get rid of the gardener, which was a shame because the millionaire’s daughter and the gardener had both become quite fond of each other. Then something amazingly wondiferous happened! The gardener was finally able to grow something, an apple in fact…right out of his own hand. He gave it to the woman to remember him by, and sadly took his leave.

Ah, but this is a love story. It couldn’t end like this.

After that display the millionaire couldn’t let the gardener go. The man had too much potential. He invited him to live in the mansion and be their official gardener in hopes that he could work his magic once again. He did, and the garden as well as the rest of the lawn thrived. The gardener and the millionaire’s daughter were married. They had a son. Everyone was happy. That’s the story of Ziggy’s family, or at least how he tells it.

Then the millionaire passed away. Everyone…not so happy. Eventually, the family moved, taking the entire house (and the hill) to another country. Things got a little harder for the family afterwards, as people never quite took to the foreigners, especially for the couple’s only son, Ziggington Landsforth Pettigrew. In this new town, Ziggy was known as that weird skinny kid with the funny accent, “Ziggy the Twig” they called him, because of his stick-like physique and his leaf-like cowlick. He was ostracized by his peers and constantly made fun of, so he mostly kept to himself. He was a good kid, trusting and polite and proper, but was never treated very well.

Eventually, the gardener and his wife passed away. Their lush garden became as dead as it was long ago. By then Ziggy was an adult and decided to use his newfound wealth for various humanitarian acts and environmental restoration projects. He too shared a passion for plants. However, much like his father struggled in the beginning, he was unable to do much good to his own yard. Soon news of his achievements spread across Monoy, and he received the honor of being Man of the Year. Of course, his old classmates were feeling like dirt by comparison.

The big night came for the ceremony, but where was Ziggy? It was around this time that Pilot, as she sometimes does, had given Pong a flight back to his home on the range in Monoy. While she was there, she figured she’d check out the festivities in her own town. She’d remembered “Ziggy the Twig” from her childhood, but never really knew the guy. Nonetheless, she was the only one to make an attempt to find him after learning he was MIA, assuming that maybe he was at his own house. No one dared to go to that big dark castle with all those dead black plants and ominous dark clouds above it. It was just too spooky.

So Pilot ventured through the brush and thicket, through thorn and vine, climbing the dark hill to get to Ziggy’s mansion. Perhaps she only volunteered herself to prove that she could do it, that she wasn’t afraid. Maybe she was just curious about the house. Either way it was fortunate for Ziggy that someone had finally come to his rescue. She reached a vine-covered gate and found that she was actually in the backyard. The front had a clearly cut path and a sidewalk. D’oh!

There in the garden stood Ziggy, sort of. Upon closer inspection she noticed that he was a little bit more tree than person. According to Ziggy he’d been out in garden thinking and sat down on the bench he currently stood in front of. It rained for a bit and he didn’t budge. By the time he decided to leave the garden, his feet had rooted into the ground. He’d also grown in a thick mustache and beard. It all went downhill from there. It turns out that he was more twig-like than people said he was, BUT all was not lost. Ziggy had a plan; all he needed was an extra set of hands…and legs. He instructed Pilot to get the wheelbarrow and to shovel around him as if she was digging up a tree. She loaded him into the wheelbarrow, and before you know it they had bounced, rolled, and “barrowed” down the hill and right to where they needed to be. Ziggy was still standing on tree roots for feet, but he was soon back to his old self. He hired a man, Pruner, whose sole purpose was to cut his hair, as well any stray twigs, that might sprout up in certain weather conditions.

After that, the two became friends. From then on, when addressing Pilot, Ziggy would refer to her as “love”. “How are you, love?” “It’s been a long time, love.” What really seemed to interest him was the fact that she lived in Threhan. One day he decided to visit her and was simply amazed by the color culture, so much that he even changed his wardrobe from the usual blacks, whites, and grays to greens, reds, and oranges. He was especially fascinated by the colors of the park trees. After another long and weird story about trees, Ziggy buys the park from the city and turns it into a nature reserve. Now he visits Threhan every so often to check up on things and to visit his friend of course.

Ziggy speaks with a British accent. His eyes are always covered, by a hat or by his own hair. He carries an umbrella to shield him from rain. In the proper conditions, Ziggy will slowly turn into a tree. The same things that make plants grow are the things that make him change. This can be reverted by weed killer (albeit painful), uprooting him, and other methods that kill plants. Ziggy’s not just a tree hugger, but an excellent businessman. He knows a good investment when he sees one, and has even doubled his family’s wealth over the years. However, Ziggy’s love for nature, along with the wealth to back up his cause, have made him a lot of enemies in high places. Fortunately, he has become well liked as being one of the few (if not the only) rich and powerful men in town who actually wants to help people. Who says nice guys finish last?