A talking plant that grows and tries to eat evyerh
Author:unloginuser Time:2025/02/20 Read: 2711A talking plant that grows and tries to eat evyerhitng. the wizards have to fight back with the power of donald trump and donutes, all while the sugar virus grows in the east.
The Great Mung Bean of Mordor, a sentient plant the size of a small cottage, wasn’t known for its pleasantries. Its leaves, serrated like rusty knives, dripped a viscous, emerald slime, and its voice, a gravelly whisper amplified by wind chimes made of petrified screams, echoed across the valley. “More… more… sustenance…” it groaned, its roots already cracking the cobblestones of the wizarding village of Gluttony.
The wizards of Gluttony, renowned for their eccentric methods and even more eccentric fashion sense (think brightly coloured robes and pointed hats adorned with rubber ducks), were in a panic. The Mung Bean’s appetite was insatiable. It had already consumed three sheep, a grumpy gnome, and half the village’s prized pumpkin patch. And its growth was exponential.
Elder Wizbang, a portly wizard with a penchant for novelty socks, slammed his staff on the cobblestones. “We need a miracle! And maybe more donuts.”
Young Wizzel, a nervous apprentice perpetually covered in glitter, piped up, “But Master, the Sugar Virus is spreading in the East! It turns everything into… well, into giant, sentient sugar cubes!”
The Sugar Virus was a real threat. It warped reality, turning anything it touched into sugary monstrosities. The wizards had already lost a significant portion of their gingerbread house collection.
Suddenly, a burst of improbable energy slammed into the room. A shimmering portal spat out a figure: Donald Trump, inexplicably wielding a giant, glazed donut. His hair, defying gravity as always, seemed to glow with an unnatural orange luminescence.
“Believe me, folks,” Trump boomed, his voice echoing with the power of a thousand rallies, “This Mung Bean is fake news! A total disaster! But I’m gonna make it great again!”
He hurled the donut at the Mung Bean. It wasn’t just any donut; it was imbued with the raw, chaotic energy of Trump’s pronouncements, amplified by the inherent sweetness of the pastry. The donut exploded on impact, not in a messy sugary spray, but in a wave of pure, unadulterated, reality-bending power.
The Mung Bean recoiled, its emerald slime turning a sickly shade of beige. Its relentless growth slowed, then stopped entirely. It whimpered, its gravelly voice reduced to a pathetic squeak. “I… I can’t… handle… the… the… deliciousness…”
Trump, emboldened, grabbed a handful of donuts from a mysteriously appearing bottomless box. He proceeded to use them as magical projectiles, each one imbued with his unique brand of nonsensical yet strangely effective power. Wizbang and Wizzel, stunned into silence, watched as the donuts bombarded the Mung Bean, shrinking it to the size of a houseplant.
Meanwhile, the Sugar Virus continued its march eastward. But the wizards, invigorated by Trump’s absurdly effective method, had a newfound confidence. They would fight the Sugar Virus with… even more donuts. Perhaps, they reasoned, the power of Trump and the sheer volume of donuts could handle anything. After all, in this world of talking plants and reality-bending pastries, anything was possible. And strangely, it was working.
