The Paradox of the Perfect Lawns

In the sleepy suburban town of Pimlico, a phenomenon has occurred: every lawn is perfect. Every blade of grass is precisely 2.5 inches in length, every flower is precisely 12.7 degrees of bloom, and every sprinkler is precisely 37.4 degrees of tilt.

But at what cost?

The townsfolk of Pimlico have become so obsessed with their perfectly groomed lawns that they've lost all sense of time. They spend their days staring at their lawns, tweaking every blade, adjusting every sprinkler, and questioning the very fabric of reality.