December 25, 2018

The surliest triffid, Maltho Tippera, established itself in all innocence surrounded by lovely flowers next to the garden’s path. It awaited the morning revelers skipping by in their holiday finery. The attack was precisely planned. Happiness was something Maltho Tippera explicitly prohibited in its domain. The triffid waited and waited. The revelers, by fortune and whim, decided to alter routine and skip happily down the path on the other side of the garden. Foiled this time, the triffid made plans to deliver even more horrible consequences on some other glorious day. Until then, Maltho Tippera would make do stewing in fury.

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