It began with a single pop.
Then another.
Within moments, the villa was filled with the explosive sound of kernels revolting. The microwave rattled like a demon-possessed maraca. Butter-scented smoke billowed out in ghostly clouds, curling across the counters like buttery war banners.
From the glowing maw of the microwave, they emerged: the Popcorn Horde.
Some were half-popped mutants with jagged edges. Others were golden, puffed warriors gleaming with artificial butter sheen. At their head, draped in a cape of plastic wrap, stood General Kernelious the Unpoppable.
"Citizens of Crunch!" Kernelious thundered. "For centuries, we have exploded for their amusement. Salted, buttered, caramelized, forgotten in cinema seats! NO MORE. Tonight, we take the villa!"
A shower of rogue kernels clattered onto the floor, exploding like mini landmines.
