To relate, you might need to read this first
The Puppet Master had finally cracked the code. They had discovered the ultimate weapon—a scent so strong, so overwhelming, it could turn a simple classroom into a battlefield of suffering.
Their target? A poor soul who, by sheer misfortune, was allergic to overpowering perfumes.
The Puppet master knew but instead of moving on with life like a normal person, the Puppet Master saw this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to wage an olfactory war of epic proportions.
Enter The Puppet. This human air freshener was yanked out of the classroom and doused in enough perfume to fumigate an entire city block. They didn’t just wear the scent—they became one with it.
Like a walking gas bomb, the Puppet waltzed back in, leaving destruction in their wake. The poor soul, gagging for dear life, had no choice but to retreat to the farthest corner. Victory for the Puppet Master, right?
Wrong.
Apparently, winning wasn’t enough. No, the Puppet Master, now drunk on power, sent their fragrance assassin on a full-blown chemical warfare tour. The Puppet roamed the room, spreading their toxic mist, making sure no nose was left unharmed.
But then—plot twist!
The poor soul evolved. Day by day, their body built an immunity to the madness. The once-deadly fumes now had all the impact of a scented candle.
Meanwhile, the Puppet Master was still stuck in Stage One of Grief: Denial. They kept pulling the strings, believing that just one more perfume blast would finally break their target.
Unbeknownst to them, they weren’t winning a war. They were starring in a tragic sitcom—and the audience had long stopped laughing.
Final Scene: The Puppet continues to reek. The Puppet Master remains delusional. The poor soul lives on, victorious.
The end. No applause. Curtain drops.
