"I don't even know what my limit is"

The entire cartoon takes place in one very remote corner of the Space-Mirror of the Amazon, cleverly hidden from the darting eyes and gasping breath of the modern human. The entire cartoon also features a plant. This particular plant was teleported by a stork to its birthplace when it was just a runt seed from a very potent form of marijuana, one of the most highly evolved strains known to Deep Science-the Worlds cutting-edge innovation juggernaut. “Silence is God” was their motto, but only the most influential players knew that. The masses competed for their every invention, no matter how simple, as soon as it was released. Once a Deep Scientist patented a robotic ass wiper, claiming that he “never wipes his own ass”, and had this remark for the masses, a quip to accompany them on the radio and in the aisles as they purchased his things, “Who still wipes their ass?”
The ‘host’ body was an average houseplant, one you might purchase for a dollar plus tax at the dollar store. We’ll call Magic a Heir being, ‘Magic’ being the plant-hybrid’s lab name, and Heir being in between him and her. Heir was injected with the genes(hyperconic transfusion blood) of a rock star, namely Jimi Hendrix.
Magic was also injected with the genes of a Sirius prisoner and a mayan shaman.
Magic’s mind has been shifted so that he’s considerably more evolved than the plants and animals around him, thinking, therefore repeating, which may either help or hurt Heir. Heir can be thought of as Magic’s soul, a creature desperately fulfilling its desire. Heir is Magic, and yet is not Magic. Heir now lives simultaeniously with Magic, and so we will refer to them by both references throughout the book, as they describe different labels of the same identity.
Identical but individual.
Heir’s soul double is a Giant squid, who is currently drifting off into the dark abyss. We’ll meet Yawn later on. This particular corner of the Amazon where Magic called home, (Heir actually called it Yo, but let’s not concern ourselves with the linguistic anthropology here), was beautiful. In fact, the structure of the spectrum of dazzling reflected lights so resembled a ruby that it softly plucked at the observers nerves. Every moment was new. In the jungle every moment is always new, but to those who oppose themselves the value of the moment is ignored. Magic was not born in ignorance however; and in fact, considering the amount of knowledge that Heir had soaked up throughout the past courtesy of well trained ears, it was surprising that Magic had not yet figured out how to walk. Every night Magic dreams and dreamt of something exotic, and every morning Heir forgets what it was. All Magic knows is that this feeling must be experienced. Let us experience, ‘The Return of Magic.’