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Willis Weed was a garden sprite who had recently inherited his family’s magical heirloom: the Wand of Whimsical Weather. It was a spectacular wand—ornate, silvery, and humming with power—but it was incredibly difficult to control, especially for a novice sprite like Willis.

Willis had only one, simple goal this afternoon: to create a light, cheerful, moisturizing drizzle for his favorite patch of thirsty ferns.

He held the wand, focused on the ferns, and tried the simplest weather spell: “Sprinkle, spray, water the ground, let a gentle rain be found!”

Instead of drizzle, the wand shot out a massive stream of boiling hot, neon purple lemonade. It missed the ferns entirely and dissolved half of a nearby stone birdbath.

Willis gasped, wiping the sticky lemon residue from his face. "Terrible! Too much fizz! Too much citrus!"

He tried again, aiming for a cool, refreshing mist. “Mist and dew, soft and slow, let the gentle vapors flow!”

The wand responded by firing a concentrated burst of tiny, highly decorative ice sculptures of famous historical figures. A miniature ice Caesar landed right on Willis's head.

"Ow! Too specific! Too cold!" Willis yelled, tossing the ice Caesar into a bush.

He was running out of ideas. The ferns were starting to droop dramatically. He decided to try the most boring weather spell he could think of, hoping the wand would ignore it and just create rain.

“Weather, weather, do your thing, I wish for a mild, slightly overcast afternoon with a 50% chance of a completely average, non-noteworthy breeze.”

The wand hummed, hesitated, and then slowly began to rotate. It shot out a narrow, focused beam of pure magic directly at the ferns.

The ferns didn't get rain; they got tiny, miniature, self-playing silver accordions. The accordions immediately began playing a beautiful, soothing, but slightly depressing folk song.

Willis stared. "Accordions? How is that weather?"

Suddenly, the mournful music made the dirt around the ferns feel sad, and the dirt started crying. Huge, salty, genuine tears began to stream from the soil, drenching the ferns perfectly.

Willis laughed. The unpredictable wand had found the most complicated, emotional route to simple irrigation. He put the wand away, deciding that sometimes, the most confusing magic is the most effective, as long as you can manage to make the ground feel sad enough to cry.