#■ 𝕬𝖉𝖆𝖒 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉 ➮ 𝒜𝓁𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒

[magicaladamlegrand]

A Peculiar Pie Predicament

continue from here {x} @xalicethewonderx

As swiftly as the pie had launched itself through the air, splattering against the wall with an undignified squelch, even quicker was the assailant's disappearance. One moment, a shadowy figure, the next, gone without a trace, leaving behind only the aroma of warm apples and a lingering sense of bewilderment.

Adam, still processing the bizarre projectile, turned his gaze to Doggo, who stood frozen, tail giving a series of tentative, nervous wags, clearly as perplexed as his owner. Then, his eyes fell upon Kitty, who, with characteristic female nonchalance, was already sniffing curiously at the fallen pie. "Kitty, come back! We don't know if it's safe to eat," Adam exclaimed, a note of panic in his voice. With all the unsettling rumors of strange illnesses and poisonings circulating throughout the village, he certainly didn't want to be the one to break the news to Mary that her beloved dog had been poisoned by a rogue pie. The thought alone sent a shiver down his spine.

"I'm well enough, just a bit startled, that's all," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, still trying to make sense of the absurdity of the situation. "Do you think there's a pie-throwing competition coming up?" The annual hootenanny was known for its eccentric array of games and contests, so truly, anything was possible. The reason behind such a peculiar attack remained a complete mystery.

His concern then shifted to Alice, who had bravely, and perhaps impulsively, attempted to intercept the airborne pastry. He scanned them for any signs of injury, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach. "You okay, Alice?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern, hoping their heroic efforts hadn't come at a cost.

[magicaladamlegrand]

[ 4. ] sender shoves receiver out of the way of a projectile.

Adam was deep into his routine morning jog, the kind that cleared his head and set the rhythm for the day. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth from the surrounding Redwood National Park. His two companions, Doggo, a boisterous golden retriever, and Kitty, a more dignified but equally enthusiastic dog, trotted ahead, their leashes taut but comfortable in his grip. Sunlight dappled through the towering redwoods, painting shifting patterns on the forest floor as they followed the winding trail. Adam felt a sense of peaceful normalcy, a rare commodity in his often-unpredictable life.

That normalcy shattered in an instant. Without so much as a rustle in the undergrowth or a warning bark from the dogs, a solid, unexpected force slammed into his side, sending him sprawling to the ground. The leashes slipped from his numb fingers as he hit the soft earth with an unceremonious thud, the wind knocked out of him. Just as his head bounced lightly against a patch of moss, a large, glistening object, round and golden-brown, whizzed through the space where his ear had been a fraction of a second before. It exploded against the gnarled trunk of a nearby oak tree with a wet, satisfying splat, sending custard and flaky crust shrapnel flying.

Adam blinked, his vision still swimming slightly. He pushed himself up on an elbow, his dogs now sniffing curiously at the pie remnants on the tree. Looking up, he saw Alice, their usually serene face etched with a mix of fierce concentration and a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. They stood over him, one hand still outstretched as if they'd just pushed him. Confusion, thick and disorienting, swirled in his mind, but beneath it, a profound wave of gratitude washed over him. They—Alice—had truly saved him from a very un-Adam-like, and undoubtedly humiliating, pie-to-the-face incident.

But the immediate danger had passed, and the absurdity of the situation began to settle in. What in the name of all that was sane was a pie doing, flying through the air with such velocity and precision? Was it an errant bakery delivery? A bizarre, culinary-themed attack? His mind raced through increasingly ridiculous scenarios. Then again, he thought, as his gaze drifted across the familiar, yet perpetually baffling, landscape of Redwood, this was Redwood. It wasn't just a town; it was a living, breathing enigma. Its people were less 'peculiar' and more 'masters of the delightfully, often dangerously, unconventional'. From the annual 'are dodos really instinct debate' to Mrs. Hasagawa's prize-winning, sentient pumpkins, Redwood had a way of making the utterly outlandish feel... normal. Was a rogue, airborne pie truly that surprising in the end? Probably not. It was just another Tuesday, another bizarre brush with the everyday extraordinary in the heart of Redwood. Adam sighed, a small, wry smile touching his lips. He supposed he should just be grateful it wasn't a fruitcake.