The Existential Pothole and the Gouda Solution

Percy wasn't just any pothole. He was a gaping maw of asphalt and gravel, yes, but also a connoisseur of artisanal cheeses and a surprisingly eloquent conversationalist (mostly in existential sighs and polite requests for more Roquefort). His quest for self-improvement began one Tuesday when a passing cyclist, mid-air after hitting Percy, yelled, "You're a gaping hole in society!" Percy, being a rather sensitive chasm, took it literally. He decided to fill the void, both physically and metaphorically. His first attempt involved a truckload of organic kale, which only made him smell like a very healthy compost heap. Then came the revelation: cheese. Specifically, aged Gouda. "It has structural integrity," he'd whisper to bewildered pigeons, "and a certain... nutty finish." The Department of Transport, initially baffled by reports of a cheesy crater causing traffic jams and philosophical debates with elderly bus passengers, eventually just cordoned him off with a sign reading: "Beware: Sentient, Cheese-Filled Pothole. Do Not Feed." Percy, meanwhile, was slowly but surely solidifying into the world's most aromatic, if unstable, dairy-based road hazard, occasionally offering free samples to particularly polite drivers.