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Luna, a tiny fairy with wings that shimmered like dewdrops, had a very important job: polishing the moonbeams. Every night, armed with a miniature polishing cloth and a sprinkle of stardust, she’d make sure each moonbeam was perfectly shiny for the sleepy world below. But tonight, there was a problem. A moonbeam was missing! Not just dim, but utterly, completely GONE.

Luna fluttered frantically around the celestial ceiling, her tiny lantern swinging wildly. “Oh, dear, oh dear, oh dear!” she chirped. “How will the fireflies find their way? How will the sleepy bunnies know when to close their eyes?”

She consulted her trusty Moonbeam Map, a delicate scroll made of spiderwebs and dreams. According to the map, Moonbeam #7-B, the one that usually landed squarely on Farmer Giles’s prize-winning pumpkin patch, had vanished.

Luna decided to investigate. She followed the faint trail of remaining moon dust, which led her on a dizzying descent past fluffy clouds and twinkling stars. The trail ended abruptly at a rather large, rather fluffy cloud. And inside that cloud, she heard a peculiar sound: a gentle, rhythmic munching.

Peeking through a gap in the cloud, Luna gasped. There, nestled amongst the softest cloud fluff, was Barnaby Bear. And he wasn’t just munching; he was eating the moonbeam! He held it like a long, glowing spaghetti noodle, slurping it down with contented sighs.

“Barnaby Bear!” Luna exclaimed, her voice barely a squeak. “What are you doing?”

Barnaby looked up, his face smeared with moonbeam sparkle. “Oh, hello, Luna! I was just… having a midnight snack. These moonbeams are ever so tasty! Like a sweet, cool whisper on the tongue.” He offered her a bite. “Want some?”

Luna’s tiny jaw dropped. “But Barnaby, you can’t eat moonbeams! They’re for shining, not for snacking!”

Barnaby looked bewildered. “Oh. Are they not? I just thought they looked so deliciously luminous.” He burped delicately, a tiny puff of sparkling mist.

Luna, ever resourceful, knew she had to get that moonbeam back. “Barnaby,” she said, trying to sound stern, “if you don’t give me back Moonbeam #7-B, how will Farmer Giles’s pumpkin grow big and round for the Autumn Fair?”

Barnaby’s eyes widened. He loved the Autumn Fair. And he especially loved Farmer Giles’s pumpkin pie. “The pumpkin pie!” he gasped. “Oh, dear. I didn’t think of that.”

Slowly, carefully, Barnaby began to… un-eat the moonbeam. It was a rather messy process, involving a lot of glowing burps and a few hiccups that sent tiny stars spinning around his head. Finally, with a monumental effort, the moonbeam, slightly crumpled but still shining, re-emerged.

Luna quickly polished it up, guided it back to its rightful place, and watched as it illuminated Farmer Giles’s pumpkin patch once more. Barnaby, feeling a little sheepish but also strangely full, promised never to eat a moonbeam again. “Though,” he mused, “they do taste rather nice with a sprinkle of stardust.” Luna just sighed, already imagining all the other things Barnaby might try to munch on.