I found them in the forest. I didn't think they were real. I thought I'd eaten a funny mushroom or something. But there they were, living in their mushroom houses, eating smurfberries and singing and hopping. They were so cute! And friendly! I stayed and danced with them all day. It was great!

Then I tripped on a mushroom. It was an accident! I stepped on Victim Smurf, crushed his lower body. I tried to help, but it was too late. Then, without, thinking, I licked the blue gore on my hand. It was delicious! Like, the best thing I'd ever tasted. With the others watching in horror, I took the corpse and drank from it. Something like fire and ice and the hand of god filled me - the best high I'd ever had. I felt... smurfy. It lasted only a moment, but it was so intense, I had to have more.

I woke up three weeks later, in a pile of broken mushrooms and white hats, hands and teeth stained blue. They're all gone, now. I have to find more. I need that feeling again. Even just one more...

The monkey on my back is three apples high.
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