The Cosmic Jokester

In the heart of Walnut Hollow, a town that prided itself on its rigidity, tradition, and stubborn moral certainty, something strange was stirring. It began with whispers — a voice carried on the wind, laughing at odd hours, leaving cryptic graffiti on the walls of the town’s most venerated institutions: “The Goddess has eyes, and she’s unimpressed.”

Nobody took it seriously at first. Walnut Hollow was too busy with its Town Hall meetings, church bake sales, and annual Moral Code Parade to worry about a few harmless pranks. That is, until the pranks became impossible to ignore.

One crisp morning, as the sun rose over the steeple of St. Harmony’s Church, the townsfolk found the church bell tower bedecked with hundreds of rubber chickens, each squawking madly in unison. The mayor’s office, usually a model of order, erupted in chaos when glitter-filled balloons rained down from the ceiling during a zoning committee meeting. And then there were the notes — scrawled in wild, looping handwriting on everything from napkins to billboards: “Hail Eris, Goddess of Chaos. Your world bores her.”

For Naomi Alvarez, these disruptions felt less like vandalism and more like a lifeline.

The Rebel in Walnut Hollow

At 22, Naomi had spent her whole life pushing against Walnut Hollow’s suffocating traditions. Her protests against the factory polluting the nearby river had earned her the ire of the town elders. Her calls for transparency in local government were dismissed as the naive ramblings of…