He was really tired and lost and didn't notice anything unusual about the house he broke into in the middle of the night to try to get some shut-eye. He was on the run from the cops for stealing a car, which wasn't something he wanted to do, but his girl missed the bus and didn’t make it to the auditions several days ago and made it very clear that there was no valid reason for why she was still with somebody who didn't have as much as a car to his name. So he stole something shiny, and thanks to the uncalled-for overeagerness of the police department's new psychic cat, he was now a fugitive, spending a night in some shady bungalow in the woods, very much without the same girl who helped usher in this part of his life.
As he looked around the house, he located a stove, some pots and pans and enough macaroni and cheese to make himself a decent meal. Cooking was a relaxing time for him, and he got into such a good mood that he didn't mind opening some of the old wine he found stashed away in the cupboard. It got him drunk pretty quickly, and he started to sing some good old rock n’ roll songs, spilling hot cheese on the carpet in the process of joy. "But who was going to find out?" he rightfully thought as he passed out on the couch.
And no one really did find out why a plane landed that evening in the middle of a busy highway, causing an hours-long traffic jam that made the Man with the Mushroom Leg late for his bowling rematch with the Man Who Had Black Bees Fly Out Of His Mouth When He Spoke. It was during their bowling match that takes place every forty thousand years or so that they decide the fate of the current batch of civilizations. And as the Mushroom Man was running late, they decided to postpone the game for another forty thousand years or so, effectively saving our modern art galleries and beer gardens from extinction.
And all this because our poor car thief happened to wonder into the Mushroom Leg Man's house and stirred his macaroni with a Magic Wand, drank some of the Elixir of Life, while spilling some of the Cheese of Desire on the Flying Carpet. None of these actions affected him much as he was too drunk to care why it seemed like his couch was flying through golden showers, and why he was still humping a spatula and certainly he did not know that he would now live forever, especially since he would rather die as soon as possible. But when the hapless guy sang the songs, he really irritated the forest fairies, who brought down the plane just out of the deep spite they always held for the arrogant inhabitant of the mushroom house. This is how things happen in the world, our survival dependent on clueless wanderers of the night and their self-centered battles with the mundane as the battle between the forces of magic rages just a zip code away...
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