The megalith atop a mound of frozen butter has begun to lean. The wind–an opponent of this lonely monument’s verticality over the past several days–has finally managed to noticeably move the giant. Now it’s only a matter of time before that butter melts, leaving no margin for error and dooming the poor behemoth to horizontality until the next time an advanced-enough species wanders over and decides that this particular rock would look better if it touches the ground with the smallest possible footprint. It could happen tomorrow, it could take a billion years. Hell, it may never happen. How it started standing in the first place is a mystery unto itself.

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