Galaxies bloomed like flowers on dark matter

Galaxies bloomed like flowers on dark matter stalks, but little did their tiny denizens know of the strange cultures that thrived along the hidden transit corridors. Tourists

plucked a few "pretty spiral flowers" causing intergalactic mayhem. As the dark energy sap dripped from the stalks, the galaxies imploded releasing a shower of singularities

shining like fires on the river. Then the being motioned for me to look. He opened a chest and showed me a shadow land. He waved a feather over it and tiny life forms began t

o dance like melting snowflakes. The dark puppeteer added a drake to the tableau made of ash paper. A lute played softly. He snappeed the lid down. "How much are you willing?"

Momentarily distracted by the haunting lute melody, he shook his head. "Everything I have," he told his estate planner. "She will inherit all that I have." The puppeteer

danced a jig to the distracting lute melody then considered his rash decision about his estate. The puppeteer had forgotten the orphanage where he had grown up. They had

instead, moved on to settling down with children or getting Lootcrate. God knows how that works, but it's the puppet's decision to make, not ours.

The puppet now had six hands and three heads, because of the water supply being contaminated from agents orange and blue. Doctors slashed their supply budgets because nothing would

stop the exponential growth in the number of heads and hands. The puppet looked up at its Master and spoke, out of all three heads at once, "Master, please,

buy me a piano."