This past year was very interesting. While with the revelers during the beginning of the year, Jade (my wife!), Neryssa (The plague! Ahhh!), and I spent the days bothering knights (Broccoli! And Lanceor (Still not King� damn)), impersonating squires, harassing peasants (Jacob! Squee!), founding our own country (Ganglion! [complete with religion, language, theme song, and website [you are there]), liking rocks, trying to knight rocks (Bobwin and Murray!), knighting moose (Sir Northumbrian Vibrating Moose of Orkney of Ganglion� uh� I mean Dancing Moose...), walking around with fish (really big smelt that ate so much rainbow trout that they started to look like rainbow trout), and controlling the weather/being scenery (We are the Sun! We are the Rain! We are the Snow!). After spending a few months with the revelers, I decided to take a break from them before reveling season started again. During this time, I did the impossible. I got a job. The job entailed selling fish heads in the soon-to-be Camelot, and was a pretty decent paying job. The only problem was that fish heads smell pretty bad. They smell like old moldy socks that were left in the bottom of a knight�s locker for a year after they had been worn in twenty consecutive battles, all of which ended in thigh-high blood baths and a bad case of athlete�s foot. Yup, it�s that bad. I had been working there for a month, when, early one morning, one of the fish heads I put out on display started singing opera. This particular fish head was a indescribable bluish color with bright red, yellow, and green spots. It had large, shiny, greenish-yellow fishbowl eyes with long dark eyelashes and a white backbone protruding out of its upper head (unless there are little children around). For some reason, by the end of the day, no one had wanted to buy the opera singing fish head. I was going to throw him out, but he started begging for mercy, so I pitied him. I decided to take him with me since he was reveler colored. He told me his name was Mort. Mort was a well-educated fish head, and he even liked rocks too. Although he�s really interesting, Tor didn�t like him. I think it�s just because he also likes rocks.
At around this time, Tor was also on my back to give up rocks. She thought it was ridiculous that I slept with part of my rcok collection under my pillow. Tor just doesn�t like rocks too much. Rocksus hopped of my hand and hurried down a long hallway. I looked at the shiny purple rock he had handed me, and resolutely walked out of the Temple. As I approached the revelers, I stopped and took aim at Krystal�s new man. I threw the rock and, low and behold, the man turned into a purple cow! Enraged, Krystal charged at me. Not knowing what to do, I froze with a deer-in-the-headlights look on my face. Luckily for me, the gods intervened and she tripped over a rock, knocking her unconscious. When she came to, she seemed to be fine and seemed to be over her anger. It was probably all just an overreaction. A week later, she still married the purple cow. Some people are just so strange.
Not long after that, my strongest supporter, Mort, was kidnapped. I don�t know who did it, but I have strong suspicions that Tor might be behind the kidnapping.
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