There once was a snail. A small, inconsequential snail at that.

There once was a snail. A small, inconsequential snail at that.

He was out for a stroll around the flower pots. It was a cool spring day, with a lovely drizzle falling from beautiful grey clouds.

Suddenly, thunder boomed, and a flash of lightning struck the old marsh violet pot. The snail was startled. He expressed this, by touching his antennae together in worry. Smoke cleared from the little burnt pot.

From the ashes, rose a little red imp, with a wicked, toothy grin. He snickered, and spoke: “Hello, snail! You have been chosen. You will be charged with a grand mission!” The snail answered: “...”

The imp continued: “You see, I have struck a deal with a human. They are now immeasurably rich. However, if they come into contact with the fated snail, they shall perish. That’s you, he-he-he! How fun!” The snail blinked. If that’s what they do. “Anyway, see you later!” said the imp cheerfully, before he disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, with a loud “pop!”.

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