“Drench, quench, soak, and spray! Rain-clouds roll and thunder bays! Sparks up above us, puddles down below, whip up a storm and blow, blow, BLOW!”

A peal of thunder roared as the final line of the spell was delivered, and dark clouds were rolling in within moments. Raindrops fell in the distance, moving toward the carnival with all due speed and preceded with the unmistakable tangy scent of petrichor and geosmin.

“Was that really necessary?” Mayor Guenwald said, already soaked, after the cloudburst engulfed the reviewing stands.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about letting me run a dunk tank,” Madame Xenovia said, miraculously dry amid the storm.

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