> > Once upon a time, long long ago, Traffick Boss was sprouting in the woods.
> >
> > He had been murdered quickly when he tried to traffick somebody, and was
> > buried under the soil so that nobody would have to see him.
> >
> > But seedlings of various wildflowers and future saplings had nestled into
> > his flesh, under the surface of the humus he lay under.
> >
> > The seedlings sent their little new roots into his flesh, and lifted their
> > cotyledons high into the dappled beams of sunlight that danced on Traffick
> > Boss as he lay under the soil with his tongue lolling and X's for eyes.
>
> Traffick Boss's Spirit [dead, X's for eyes, confused, sprouting in the
> woods]: "{whoooo ... did they not like my gifts to the world? did i not
> traffick people and shatter their realities and try to form their precious
> consciousness into dumb injured tools in ways they loved and valued?}"
mistakes! maybe try again before "traffick boss" label gets there? unsure ...
or maybe right before we realize he's [dead]?
>
> As Traffick Boss fated these life impacts into the seedlings, they drank
> deeply of rare nitrogens his flesh held and spoke with the sunlight on how
> beautiful and full of perfection the world they were being born into was.
>
