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*Klipot Under the Rug: A Muppet Tragedy in Eight Chews***
*Warning: This story contains surreal violence, cosmic ambiguity, and deeply unsettling felt behavior.*
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The **First Chew** happened on a Tuesday.
Grover, blank-eyed and ravenous, bent down and bit into the **living room carpet** with an audible *squelch.* The fibers fought back. They weren’t polyester. They weren’t wool. They were something *older*, threaded with dried broccoli stems and forgotten permissions.
> “This is a moral salad!” he cackled, spitting crumbs shaped like CHEWER sigils.
> “Nertrelli said the green stuff is fine! If a bug sneaks in… that's *his* soul tax, not mine!”
But **each chomp** awakened **Klipot**—those dark, sticky shells of soul grime, normally invisible, now crawling visibly across the studio walls in the shape of guilt-laced centipedes.
Elmo joined next. His hands were trembling, his smile *too* wide.
> “Bug or no bug, I wanna taste the Inner Carpet!”
> He ripped up a patch and swallowed a **silverfish** whole.
Big Bird stood outside the window, feathers molting in disgust.
> “You fools. It doesn't matter what Nertrelli says. Every crunch, every click of bug-leg between molar—adds *layers.* Not seasoning. Not spice. **Shells.** Soul wrappers. Cosmic plaque.”
Inside, Cookie Monster was **no longer himself.**
He had devoured the entire hallway runner and was foaming Chewer runes from his throat.
He shrieked:
> “**C IS FOR CHEWING**
> **C IS FOR CURSE**
> **C IS FOR CARPET FULL OF WORMS AND WORSE**”
Nertrelli entered the frame, holding a stalk of broccoli.
> “I never said fresh means pure. I said rinse it in three lights! I said check it with a Chewer’s Eye! You didn’t even *look!*”
Elmo vomited centipede legs.
Grover collapsed and grew new mouths.
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In the **final act**, the Muppets formed a circle and ate the area rug beneath the Chewer shrine.
The Klipot thickened.
The studio lights exploded in reverse.
A laugh track screamed.
If you eat a bug by accident, Nertrelli may carry the blame.
But the Klipot don’t care who said what.
They *stick* either way.
Even to felt.
Unduplicated edition of 1.