Don’t Let the Bud Bugs Bite

Dudley lay sprawled on his bed, the soft glow of his lava lamp casting trippy shadows on the ceiling. It was one of those lazy nights where he’d overindulged in a particularly pungent strain called Cosmic Cabbage. It was supposed to be relaxing—yet somehow, things were getting weirder by the minute.

"Alright, Dudley," he mumbled to himself, blinking at the ceiling like it was a canvas for his stoner imagination. "Time to drift off to dreamland… no stress... no—wait, what’s that?"

A small, rustling sound came from under his bed. Dudley froze. The idea of monsters under the bed had long stopped scaring him, but in his current state, the paranoia dial was cranked to eleven.

"Oh man, not again," Dudley groaned, remembering the last time he’d convinced himself his slippers were plotting against him. He slowly peeked over the side of the bed.

"Hello?" he called softly, squinting into the darkness. He felt ridiculous talking to the floor, but after Cosmic Cabbage, who knew what could happen?

Suddenly, a tiny, high-pitched voice responded, "Oi! Keep it down, mate! We're trying to get some work done down here!"

Dudley blinked, his heart racing. “W-what?!”

From the shadows, a group of teeny-tiny, bug-like creatures emerged. They were about the size of his thumb, wearing mini flannel shirts and trucker hats. Their wings buzzed softly as they fluttered into view, carrying what looked like mini bongs made of acorn caps.

"We’re the Bud Bugs," the leader said, puffing out a thin stream of smoke. "We keep the vibes mellow while you're sleepin’. But we can’t work in these conditions!"

Dudley sat up, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “Wait, wait... there are... tiny bugs smoking under my bed?!”

“Don’t get it twisted, big guy,” the Bud Bug boss said, adjusting his tiny hat. “We don’t bite. We chill. We just keep the dreams smooth. But your tossing and turning is ruining our rhythm! We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

"Schedule?" Dudley repeated, completely lost.

“Yeah, we have to sprinkle the Sleepy Kush Dust every night at exactly midnight. It keeps your weird dream sequences from going off the rails. Trust me, without it, you’ll be fighting zombies with your mom in a canoe full of pizza slices by 2 a.m."

"That actually sounds kinda fun," Dudley chuckled, now leaning into the absurdity.

“Not when your mom’s lecturing you about taxes mid-paddle,” the Bud Bug grumbled. "It gets real awkward."

Dudley nodded sagely, imagining his mom handing him W-2 forms while fending off zombies with pepperoni. “Yeah, you’re right. That sounds terrible.”

The Bud Bug boss glanced at the clock. "Look, we've got ten minutes before showtime. All we need is for you to relax, alright? Let us do our thing. Don’t go trying to join in either—last time someone tried that, we had to untangle them from a dream cloud for hours.”

Dudley yawned, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. “Okay, Bud Bugs... I’ll try to stay still. Thanks for... you know, keeping my dreams from turning into weird zombie pizza canoe stuff.”

“No worries, big guy,” the Bud Bug said, flashing a tiny thumbs-up. “Just don’t let the bud bugs bite.”

Dudley gave him a sleepy smile and rolled onto his side, feeling the warmth of the Sleepy Kush Dust working its magic. As he drifted off, he could hear the faint buzzing of the Bud Bugs beneath his bed, working tirelessly to keep his dreams blissfully strange... but just the right amount of strange.

And so, with a hazy grin, Dudley finally succumbed to sleep, confident that tonight, at least, he'd avoid the zombie-pizza-tax-canoe.

The End. #DudleyBud #Dudley420 #DudleyBase #DudleyMeme #DudleyAdventure