splish splash im takin a bath
i deglove my finger and juse it collect boogers
then i fossilize it
by sticking it into a tar pit for 4 gazillion years
my name is sam and this is my story.
in the 4th year of the 2nd age, i was born to a loving mother in the grand village of Harth, high up in the snow tipped mountains.
Life was simple and i watched the condors as I tended to the lamas.
Then one day the evil Lord Basken attacked and he and his raiders of 40 took 6 of the 10 lamas and i was sore afraid, though i had my tiny sling and a half finished flute I was working on, which was made from a rams horn i had found in a bush.
When the raiders left i rushed home, screaming, but instead of pity i received bitter scorn and punishment from my evil stepmother irene, a terrible woman with hard calloused feet that she now kicked me with.
Ouch.
"Ah you slumbering dummy, you good-for-nothing boy, you are just like your father, oh i wish you had died, just like that mother of yours, whore she was"
then she grabbed me threw me down the hill
I rolled like a cheese wheel for 10 miles at least and lost consciousness.
When i woke up, i was in a mountain gash, dark, but also cozy, not so cozy was the arm, which was broken.
I cried bitterly again but soon it dawned on me that in this dark ravine only one thing could help me: Myself.
Gnawing and gnashing, clawing and dashing, I made it out of the pit and like a creature reborn, emerged from the black dust, covered in volcanic ash, son of Harth had become son of Man.
I raised my voice to the heavens and I screamed.
Blood and sunder, i would put these bandits 10 feet under.
Chapter 2.
