The desert village of Blandarid saw few visitors, which the residents were perfectly content with. Visitors meant activity, and activity meant change, and the Blandaridians liked things just the way they were. Their abundance of lukewarm water and white bread left them parched for character, which they were also perfectly content with.
Well, they'd bemoan the day Harold Habanero decided to stop in for a visit. The wanderer had been doing precisely that when he grew thirsty. His wilted water sack had not a drop remaining, and the tongue of his camel, Cappy, drooped as their pink flag of surrender to the elements. He considered heavily the idea of drinking sand before stopping at a town as dull as Blandarid, but he decided against it, and the Blandaridians soon found themselves with a guest they wished had chosen to drink sand instead.
The clacking of the dried peppers hanging inside his robes, and the sand which the tassels of those robes dragged into the town caused panic in the residents. Ignoring any likely customs, Harold walked Cappy to the tepid waterhole, and they both dunked their faces in, splashing the street as they did. A concerning amount of time later, the man and beast emerged, further desecrating the town with the drippings from their sopping coats.
Despite the townspeople's revulsion, they proceeded with social propriety and offered their unfortunate guests food.
"Thanks!" Harold exclaimed, and Cappy gave an obnoxious snort.
The people shuddered, but bid them welcome, nonetheless. The guests munched on the crackers, then immediately tried to spit them out for lack of taste. The dry crumbs simply stuck inside their mouths though, so they dunked their heads back in the water to wash down what these deplorable people called "food."
"Cappy, this needs some salt." Harold said, and Cappy skipped at the mention. Harold fished in his robes for his salt shaker, rustling all the dried peppers in the process and generally causing more commotion than could possibly be justified. When he brought the salt shaker out, the Blandaridians retreated in horror. Harold and Cappy tilted their heads in confusion, then shrugged and continued with seasoning their portions.
Once they were as satisfied as they could hope to be from this people's meager hospitality, the guests were as ready to depart as the host were to have them gone. Harold fished in his robes again, this time staring directly at the villagers as he shook his robes extra-antagonistically. He pulled out two dried habaneros, at which the villagers retreated in further shock.
He tossed them in the air and he and Cappy each caught one in their mouth. "Ahhh, flavor!" he roared, and Cappy gave another loud snort.
Harold led Cappy back out of the town, and as a final farewell to the people, he smacked Cappy on her front hump, and she belched habanero-induced fire. Glad to be rid of each other, the guests resumed their wandering, and the Blandaridians quickly tidied up the mess their guests made. Each grain of sand was returned to the desert proper, and the spill on the street was given much clearance so it could evaporate as quickly as possible. They might have to enforce who'd be allowed entrance to their village from now on, but that would mean change, and change would mean activity, and the Blandaridians had had enough activity for quite some time.
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