storm brewed to the east of the castle... Large black clouds concealed the late morning sun... Thunder rumbled in the distance as the wind began to pick up...

All in the courtyard held their heads low... Twas a depressed time for all of WadAsia... The unexpected fall of the great one, Sir Jeffulot, had caught the entire WadAsian economy by surprise. Wagon stocks had fallen through the floor. Chicken stocks had dwindled to be nearly worthless, and condom sales were way low. The only assets that had appreciated in value were ale stocks. This was the result of an indirect macroeconomic phase of persistant ecological invariant cyclical third generation retrospective feedback of environmental status driven rate decreases.... (ie. DEPRESSION). T'were hard times....

The populous dragged to and fro with heads hung low (hey that rhymed), stopping to sigh now and then, and now and then raising their heads to see what time it was. Terrible... Just terrible....

They each missed the Mighty Sir Jeffulot in their own way, but each definately missed him for his way with the people. His statue had been torn down from the center of the courtyard and thrown to the moat. All that could be seen above the surface of the slime was the tip of his sword and the very end of the feather upon his helmet.

All color had been stripped from the streets, and everything had been painted dull flat black, perhaps an attempt by the new King to cheer everyone up.

The new King, Kev, Lord of Destruction sat in his chamber, sorting through Sir Jeffulot's belongings... He was sure that Sir Jeffulot had stolen a pair of his shorts and he was determined to find them.

Alas, the King heard a whistling noise approaching the castle... He rushed to the window to see what it was. He saw a flaming arrow with a very high arch aporaching the castle... he jumped back slightly in case it were aimed for his chamber window, but it was not. It eventually whistled into the center of the courtyard and connected solid to the center of the bulletin board. Flames burst upwards onto the rest of the board allowing only a momentary glance of the note that had been attached to it. It read, "King Kev, If you grant me a challenge this evening you will surely die by my hand, if you do not grant me my right to a challenge, I will kill you anyway... This evening! Sir Jeffulot the Mighty". The King shuddered in fear, as all the memories of all the pain that the Mighty Jeffulot had given him returned to haunt him at once.

The King quicky retreated to the training yard where he began to practice with fat bald women to prepare him.
~ Property of the WadAsian High Council


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