[Kransha]

Ah, and thereby hangs a tale.

I remember it as though it was but yesterday, aye....

~Wavy Flashback Lines~

It was but a month or two ago, as my mind recalls. I was atop my noble steed, the legendary porcupig of the Westfold, called Glibbit in the Rohirric tongue, riding through the lovely Nurn Community Park, located in scenic Mordor after its desolation. All was going well and I was content, having just slain a terrible pink Flibbidijibit, but my contentment was shortlived.

You see, I was attacked by band of murderous plot bunnies, beasts of pure pink darkness who seek only to twist the world around them and egg on the Mary-Sues who spawn in the mucous-ridden trails they leave like monstrous, pink snails covered in adorable (so adorable it has to be evil, you know) fuzz. So, I was thus waylaid so cruelly by the bunnies, who flew around me on wings of illogic and, despite my incredible strength, 'smote my ruin upon the mountainside' of clams.

There I lay, feeling the life leave me as I looked up, bemoaning fate, into the sky. As life took its exit, I was reminded of John Donne's famous words, "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee." (primarily because there was a big ol' bell tolling right beside me, an unwelcome plot bunny deathday gift). I needed a place to go, free of plot bunnies, Mary-Sues, and the ignorant park-goers who'd dismissed my pink plight. As my soul fled, it pranced happily towards the Barrow-Downs, humming a little ditty about the glories of Shire-manufactured cheese.