Farmer Grimroot’s laughter fills the air as the three transformed boys—now barefoot, dressed in overalls, and speaking with thick country accents—stand helpless before him. But the evil farmer isn’t done yet. With another wicked wave of his hand, a dark, shimmering mist surrounds the boys, and a strange new sensation starts to wash over them.
Carl is the first to notice. His hands, once clenched in frustration, begin to twitch, and his feet shuffle in the dirt as if they’ve got a mind of their own. “What’s this now?” he mutters, trying to keep still, but he feels a growing urge to move—no, to play.
Alex shakes his head, feeling the same pull. “Something’s… somethin’ ain’t right,” he says, his bare toes digging into the ground. His body tingles with restless energy, the desire to run, jump, and… wrestle?
Luke, always the calm one, tries to resist, but even he’s not immune. “This ain’t normal…” he says, his voice strained. His body feels light, almost weightless, as a childish urge begins to bubble up inside him. “Ah feel like… like I wanna… play?”
Farmer Grimroot watches their struggles with a wicked grin. “Ah, I see y’all are feelin’ the effects of my Mud Wrestlin’ Spell!” He raises his hand and snaps his fingers, and in an instant, the ground beneath the boys turns soft and wet, transforming into a slick patch of sticky mud. “Go ahead, boys, let loose! Get dirty! You can’t fight it!”
As much as they try to resist, the spell is too strong. Carl lets out a small laugh, then another, before he suddenly lunges at Alex, tackling him into the mud with a gleeful shout. “Yeehaw! Let’s wrestle!”
Alex, despite himself, laughs too as they roll around in the mud, their once serious demeanor completely replaced by hyperactive energy. “Carl, stop it! Ah’m serious!” But even as he says it, he grabs Carl back, pulling him into a muddy headlock, laughing uncontrollably.
Luke, watching his friends wrestle, tries to keep calm, but the urge is overwhelming. “Ah ain’t… ah ain’t gonna…” But before he can finish, he’s running straight at them, diving into the mud with a playful grin. “Gotcha, Alex!”
The three boys are soon covered head-to-toe in mud, rolling, laughing, and wrestling like a trio of rambunctious farm kids. The mud splashes everywhere as they roughhouse, their bare feet slipping and sliding in the muck. They grab at each other, pulling, pushing, and rolling in the filth, their faces streaked with dirt, their overalls soaked.
Alex tries to catch his breath, his hands sinking into the mud as he pushes himself up, only for Carl to tackle him back down. “Carl, quit it!” But his voice is filled with laughter, and despite his protests, he finds himself grabbing Carl by the arm and flipping him into the mud again.
Luke wipes mud from his eyes, giggling like a carefree child. “Ah never felt so full o’ energy! Let’s keep goin’!” He jumps on top of the pile, knocking both Alex and Carl over again, sending another splash of mud into the air.
Farmer Grimroot stands back, watching with amusement as the once mighty Cyber Space Warriors are reduced to nothing more than a trio of filthy, rowdy boys playing in the mud. “Just look at ya! The great warriors, now nothin’ but dirty lil’ farm boys roughhousin’ in the dirt! Y’all are a sight to see, I’ll tell ya that!”
Carl, his face smeared with mud, tries to respond between fits of laughter. “We ain’t done… y-yet!” But even as he says it, he can’t help but tackle Luke again, sending the two of them rolling through the muck. The sound of their laughter echoes through the field, and no matter how hard they try, they just can’t stop themselves.
Alex, wiping mud from his face, manages to stand up for a moment. “We gotta… g-gotta…” But before he can finish, Carl and Luke are back on him, pulling him down into the mud with them.
Grimroot walks over, leaning down to get a better look at the boys as they roll around. “Ain’t y’all a mess? Mud all over yer faces, actin’ like a bunch o’ wild kids. Y’all look like ya belong here on the farm—filthy, barefoot, and wrestlin’ in the dirt like ya ain’t got a care in the world!”
The boys, now completely covered in mud, laugh uncontrollably, their energy completely spent in the mud as they roll around, wrestling and roughhousing without a hint of the powerful warriors they once were. The spell has taken full hold of them, and they can’t help but play, even as Grimroot continues to taunt them.
“Ah reckon y’all ain’t never been this dirty, huh?” Grimroot says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Reduced to nothin’ more than hyperactive lil’ boys, and y’all ain’t even tryin’ to stop it! Bet ya like gettin’ filthy now, don’t ya?”
Alex tries to speak, but his voice comes out in a twangy drawl, full of playful mischief. “This… this ain’t fair, Grimroot!” But even as he says it, he finds himself laughing and grabbing Carl’s arm, pulling him back into the mud.
Luke, his face streaked with dirt, calls out in his thick country accent, “We’ll getcha fer this, Grimroot!” But even as the words leave his mouth, he lets out another fit of laughter, tackling Carl and Alex once more into the mud.
The boys are now fully at the mercy of the spell, their once serious mission completely forgotten as they roughhouse and play in the mud like a trio of wild, filthy country kids. And as they wrestle, Grimroot stands above them, his laughter booming across the field.
“Y’all are done fer now! Look at ya—reduced to a bunch of dirty, giggling farm boys. Ain’t nobody gonna take ya serious no more!”