It started, like most catastrophes, with a sneeze.
Sabel had been stirring a new mocha blend — something bold, earthy, with a kick of chili and cinnamon — when Percy, perched nearby, let out a violent, feather-flinging sneeze.
"ACHOO-KAW!"
Startled, Sabel flinched. The mocha flew from his hands in glorious slow motion, twirled mid-air like a caffeinated comet, and splashed down outside the back door — right on top of a pile of compost, spoiled beans, and a suspicious-looking root someone had labeled "probably not sentient."
He groaned.
"Percy, that was the last experimental bag!"
"Wasn't me," the parrot muttered, half-hiding behind a cookie tray.
Sabel opened his mouth to complain more — until the spilled mocha began to bubble.
Act 1: The Mud That Moved
The mud started wriggling.
First in slow oozes, then in confident ripples, as if something under it was… dancing?
Rosemary peeked out from the kitchen. "Is that your fault?"
Sabel hesitated. "...Yes?"
The mud then sprouted. From the murky mix of bean, spice, and enchanted compost rose a tiny green shoot — and within seconds, it bloomed into a wiggly, wobbly, caffeinated shrub.
Leaves perked up, twitching. Buds pulsed like tiny espresso shots. And at the center of the plant, a single mocha bean-shaped pod spun.
"Oh sweet roasted chaos," Rosemary breathed. "It's… alive."
Percy flapped excitedly. "We made a plant pet! Name it Mudbean!"
Act 2: Customers and Chaos
By mid-afternoon, Mudbean had grown into a waist-high bush… that hopped.
It followed customers around, slapping their ankles with leafy vines.
It made cheerful slurping noises when anyone spilled coffee.
It refused to go away.
Sabel tried to dig it out, only for it to clone itself and slap him with a vine full of chocolate aroma. Rosemary tried to use a broom, and the broom ended up inside the plant, brewing a latte.
"It makes coffee now?" she yelped.
"Self-service shrub," Sabel muttered, stunned. "...I might love it."
Word spread. Soon people were lining up just to get chased by the mocha-bush. Percy offered tours. "This is Mudbean's favorite sunspot. That's where it did its first little wiggle."
Act 3: The Spore Spill
But Mudbean had a darker side.
Late evening, someone knocked over a cup of double espresso beside the bush.
Mudbean shivered.
Then exploded into tiny brown spores that floated through the alley, down the street, and into the café.
Every spilled drop of coffee in the area sprouted a cousin.
Soon, tiny mocha sprouts were jiggling on the counter, behind the register, inside the sugar jar, even under Percy's hat.
"This is why we don't play god with beans," Rosemary hissed as she swatted a bouncing shrub off a shelf.
Sabel grinned. "I dunno. I've never seen more energized customers."
"Because they're scared."
"Exactly! Adrenaline!"
Act 4: Cleanup & Cupcakes
They eventually brewed a mega-batch of cleaning syrup — peppermint soap, fizzy soda, and "borrowed" holy water from a grumpy monk who once owed the prince a favor.
Together, they sprayed down every corner.
Mudbean and its offspring squealed and slurped away, retreating to a single pot Sabel named "Containment Cup #1."
"It's either a plant or a caffeine elemental," he said, stroking his chin. "Either way, it's adorable."
Percy muttered, "Until it tries to marry the espresso machine."
After Hours
That night, the café glowed with candles. Everything smelled like minty cocoa and garden soil.
The prince sat on the rooftop, Mudbean potted beside him.
He sipped a simple cappuccino, gave a content sigh, and looked up at the stars.
"You ever wonder," he asked the plant, "if we're just spilled cups waiting to bloom?"
Mudbean burbled.
From inside, Rosemary yelled, "IF THAT THING ESCAPES AGAIN I'M MOVING TO THE DESERT."
He chuckled.