THE GREAT MUSHROOM PICKER by Christopher T Dabrowski

 
Kacew took too many hallucinogens.

Of course it was “too many”, considering their stronger effect in combination with vodka.

His eyes were shining with madness.

He was shouting, splashing saliva.

“I AM THE GREAT MUSHROOM PICKER! THAT’S WHO I AM!”

Suddenly his face changed. He was confused.

“Where are my mushrooms? Where?”

He investigated the room with a foggy glance.

“There aren’t any,” he moaned in desperation. “Bad people! They destroyed the environment! All the mushrooms are extinct!”

He sat at the controls, tucked his head into his shoulders and started to cry.

A moment later he wiped his eyes and murmured, “I am the great mushroom picker! That’s who I am! I’ll plant new ones!”

Like a madman, he began pressing all the black buttons.

Long-range missiles were launched from their base.

The blue planet blossomed with hundreds of nuclear mushrooms!


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