
-She’s back! The Mushroom Picker! She’s back!
-Oh my great fungus! Run! Hide!
-Wait, Surnbok said thoughtfully. -I might have an idea.
He ran through the little mushroom forest as fast as he could with his little tail body. The others ran back and forth in panic, screaming, crying.
The first mushroom was picked. No one lived there, but it did give good shadow down by the little puddle.
Another mushroom went up in the air.
-Nooooo!!! My house! My new sofa! Bambar ran towards the mushroom house.
The others held him back.
-There’s nothing you can do! Shell take you as well!
Surnbok had something white in his hand. He cut it up, threw pieces to the other villagers.
-Here! Rub your houses with this!
They ran around, rubbed the white substance on the mushrooms. The old woman picked them all and left.
…
-Hello little Kitty. Old Janice walked in the door, put the mushroom basket in the kitchen. -Today I’ll make a delicious mushroom soup.
The cat didn’t care much for mushroom soup, but he was happy his friend was home.
A few hours later she sat down in the sofa, holding her stomach.
-I don’t feel to well, she said to the cat.
She laid down, closed her eyes. The destroying angel had started its work.
And this is why I never eat the mushrooms that sprout in my back garden. ๐
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Indeed. Those little buggers have their means…
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Now we know why… ๐
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a morality tale for mushroom pickers ๐ great opening
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Don’t they ever think of the bugs who need them? ๐
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Oh no! I feel sorry for everyone involved in this. Especially the cat.
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Lucky he doesn’t care for mushroom soup…
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Seems a bit unfair, you know, but I can’t figure out what would have been a better choice for anyone (as long as communication is impossible).
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It’s called pest control, I guess…
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RUT ROH!!! ๐คฃ
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Careful which ones you pick ๐
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Right?!!! ๐
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