The Skunk Who Sprayed Too Much

He flooded the forest with noise—until no one cared to listen.

By Forest Moss

1

In a grove where the lilacs would blossom each spring,

The critters would gather and dance in a ring.

They’d play and they’d nibble, they’d nap in the shade—

Till one day a skunk came… who wouldn’t behave.

2

This skunk, name of Grizzle, had bluster and flair.

He strutted in loud with a leaf in his hair.

He’d knock over baskets, then laugh like a loon—

And say, “Aren’t I funny? You’ll thank me soon!”

3

He sprayed on the saplings, he stank up the stream,

He shouted “FAKE NUTS!” at a squirrel selling cream.

When Owliver frowned, Grizzle yelled, “SO CORRUPT!”

Then flicked mud on the stump where old stories were kept.

4

The critters were stunned. “That’s not forest decorum!”

But Grizzle just cackled, “I AM the new forum.”

And each time they gasped, he’d go bigger, not less—

Till he’d flooded the grove in a wild stinky mess.

5

At first, they protested. “This surely can’t last!”

But then came the next spray… and the next one… so fast.

And then came the lies, and the chants, and the fog—

Till it felt kind of normal to blame the wrong log.

6

Soon others joined in just to not feel so strange—

They chuckled at chaos and clapped at the change.

Even when Grizzle dug up the roots,

Some cried, “He’s just joking! He speaks in ‘truth-suits!’”

7

He’d say one thing Monday, then flip it on Tuesday—

And if caught in a lie, he’d just yell, “FAKE BLUESDAY!”

He’d flood every stump with five fibs and a smile—

Till no one remembered what truth was awhile.

8

The grove grew confused. “What is right? What is real?”

“Maybe manners were stuffy... and rules just conceal?”

But one tiny voice—Lantern, aglow—

Said, “You don’t have to sniff it to know when it’s low.”

9

So Owliver perched on the central tree bend,

And softly began to record, not defend.

Each lie was recounted, each trick laid down flat—

And slowly the forest began to smell that.

10

They scrubbed down the signs, they cleared out the noise.

They gave back the stumps to the truth-speaking toys.

Grizzle was still there, loud as ever before—

But now no one echoed. They just swept the floor.

11

He sprayed, but no laughter. He spun, but no cheer.

He roared, but the wind was the only one near.

And one day, quite softly, a headline was drawn:

“The Zone He Flooded Forgot He Was On.”

12

Now the lilacs bloom, but with cautious delight—

The grove had learned how to turn back the blight.

And when someone smirks while they trample the moss?

The critters now answer, “You’ve already lost.”

🎯 Moral of the Story:

A lie repeated is still a stink. But truth stays rooted when we clean what we think.

✏️ Why I Wrote This

This fable allegorizes the media strategy known as “flooding the zone with [expletive]” — overwhelming public discourse with so much chaos, contradiction, and nonsense that norms erode and people give up trying to discern truth.

For kids, it’s about not rewarding bad behavior with attention.

For adults, it’s a sharp satire of normalization, propaganda fog, and learned helplessness in an age of disinformation and manufactured outrage.