In a quiet Cleveland suburb, a homeowner named Dave planted a fast-growing hybrid poplar in the soggiest corner of his backyard. He’d read somewhere that it “drank like a camel,” which sounded perfect for his puddle-prone lawn.

The tree, later named “Guzzler,” took that reputation personally.

By week two, Guzzler was slurping groundwater like it was competing in a root beer chugging contest. His roots stretched like straws, his trunk pulsed like a water tower, and his leaves puffed steam like a cartoon kettle.

Neighbors started noticing. “Is that tree… sweating?” asked one. “No,” said Dave proudly. “It’s working.”

By midsummer, Guzzler had drained the yard so thoroughly that Dave’s sprinkler system started gasping. The grass turned crisp. The birdbath cracked. Even the neighbor’s koi pond mysteriously dropped two inches.

Dave tried to reason with the tree. “Buddy, I appreciate the hustle, but maybe ease up?” Guzzler responded by growing another foot overnight and launching a mist cloud from his crown that fogged up Dave’s kitchen window.

Eventually, Dave installed a moisture sensor. It blinked red. Then it blinked “LOL.” Turns out, Guzzler wasn’t just draining the yard—he was auditioning for the role of municipal water manager.

And that’s how one overachieving tree turned a swamp into a desert… and earned the nickname “The Thirst Terminator.”