A huge gnarled oak stands on a hilltop, an impassive face on its trunk. A monarch in rich robes kneels before the oak.

Monarch: Oh old oak, I beseech your wisdom! How can I make my reign happy and prosperous?

The oak looks down at the monarch with big eyes. The monarch looks surprised.

Oak: Sun yummy. Fire ouchy.

Back in the palace, the monarch sits on their throne, looking determined, as several subjects kneel before them, pleading.

Subject 1: Sire, please let us build fires again. We need to bake our bread!

Monarch: Forget bread. The sun shall provide all sustenance!

P.S. Our bills are paid by our wonderful patrons. Could you chip in?

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