Professor Mud was in tip-top shape but on the inside a big oinker. He taught at the swamp and passed as a heavy roller. To walk on his map and think safe passage was a big no-no. All who tried to leave his knows were met with displeasure. Mud knew the sway to cause real potential to go away. Whatever the doubt, the mud fled to his peers and stood on big pedestals to shout, "We must go this way!"
Trailblazers would jump in without thought and feel safe. Accepted into the swamp and promised fair play. But Mud hid in trees and watched them swim butterfly. Super strides like Olympians, they carved their own way.
On a full moon a leaf gecko stormed halls and used the light to find lecterns. It spied on ideas with big eyes and kept all the paperwork. Snapped pictures of easels and absorbed all the scribbles. Dove into processor chips to see the faces they sealed.
While novices tracked ping-pong balls at the rec hall the next day, a nearby tele and its news caused widespread dismay. It was Mud on the screen with their gold, living their dreams in every way. There was talk of an invention that led to Heaven's Gate. A motor that ran on sun rays and fake meat that could be made with little delay. A red-carpet premiere and two hardcover novels to steer. Yet most fame hit Mud's name for nanobots that drove killer warplanes. Every small fry got crushed by programmed steal and saw their dry rill.
Young imagineers sniveled to a king chair that turned the other way. "Our glory is taken to steer ships near and dear! It was the mud in the darkness," they all sneered with pierced hearts to reveal.
But the gears greased calamity and kicked away young zeal, while Mud triumphed and locked doors to keep waters at will. All the fish left enchanted by a paper that earned them no glances. They were led to a stream, where they were forced to kneel. The monster made mud and wiped away all the stars, leaving old controllers with all the head starts.
On a bed of false crowns, Professor Mud now in gray remembered the ghosts of his victims and still held onto their destined fates. He lived off the chances of others and bought all their bummed sound. For his greed and control forever lived on swamp modes. The mud had taught him how to be polluted and to live by its codes.
