The Green Man

One day a man felt something in his shoe. Not painful, or particularly uncomfortable, just different. He smiled as he walked, now he was special, different from the others. They had ordinary shoes with nothing inside but their feet. They had ordinary feet that couldn't stand to have something pressed up against them all day.
And all night, so it came to pass, because this young man decided never again to remove the shoes that made him so different.
One day his leg began to turn green but his doctor could not persuade him to remove his shoes to find the cause of the infection. So he hobbled out of the surgery and back into the world where he was now a man with special feet and a green leg to boot.
On the 4th of December, 1989, he passed away. His body, now all green, had made him a figure of freakish fun for the tabloid newspapers of the day.
The next day, his jaded body lain on the slab, the man's GP was in attendance at his autopsy. "May I?" he asked and the coroner nodded.
With one gloved hand he gripped a mushy leg and with the other slid away a black brogue. "Aha!" he exclaimed as the coroner and his assistant craned their necks to peer over the GPs shoulder and stare deep into the shoe.
Tipping it, ever so slightly, an object rolled into view. The globular form of a single garden pea.