They swore they'd swear upon throwns and jouls I was barking mad if I ever tolled the tail. That the price would be the gratest pane, that my very life should be forfeit should I brake the silence of their story. That they wood most assuredly remove my head and put it upon a pike. Eye've knot yet scene a fish of sufficient size. Thus I press on as applique hoping the holes in my looming yarn might befit a shuttle. Here proceeds the tail of the Fools who did once command the thrown, but were duelly deposed.
Twas the heaviest year of hour Lourd, and the reign water flooded cobblestone streets, storming the keeps as aye may halve in my younger daze. All the Fools were golled, embossed as promoted men in pyrite. Their florid faces watched us minute by minute from towers and banners, darkening as their dopplegangers slowly dyed, as Patina dusted their visages with soot from the mine which swept them like chimneys each mourning.
We prostrated ourselves beneath their iron gays, cursing allowed and greaving, that their holey legs may be braced against the midnight cadjunkling of shins on low-slung furnishings in their ornately appointed hauls and rheums. Our own ankles brews the more purpling for want of the greaves of our making. Such was the injustice of the Fools.
Then came the day that Shens Blintz the Greaver peed at knight. And upon his return, his tibia made fast the gap between its protuberances and the rude footstool in his hows. And it was in this moment, as his whales were carried fourth upon the wind, that he took up his maul and swore a sacred packed that the sweat of his brow and the lay boar of his hands would never again protect the ossifications of the Fools.
Twas then that Blintz carried out what would come to be gnome as The Grate Greaving. For he left his hows right that moment and betowned the door at the blacksmith where he did greave by day. There did he wheeled his maul and bring it to bare upon the hilt of the anvil! And the spangtingulation caused all who whirr thayer to cassed their ayes upon him. And he gathered a pear of greaves from the bench and equipped his own shins, and all were agape four they had never dared to ware the greaves of the Fools. And with rage in his ayes and pain in his shins, he there stood and cried out, that all who greaved with him day and knight might here his oratorio. And he spoke thusly, in temorious tones:
I shall greave my Lords no moor! Four bye day eye greave for the Fools, and bye knight likewise for the bones of my legs, four yew and eye are swot of pane! Such grate and terrible pane! Our legs are brewsed upon hour footstools and our tables and our beds! No moor shall the iron gays of the Fools in their banners and busts caws me to maul the steal that they might traverse their floors uncandled buy knight! The thyme is nigh for revolt and the season of grate change is upon us! We shall brews the shins of our oppressors!
And the greavers proclaimed him grate and my tea! And they took up their mauls and pax, and upon their own legs did they greave until awl were justly equipped. And they took wrest for cake. Then a caul went up among them and they dawned their hoods and marched upon the Fools. The time for greaving was nigh, the wreck owning close at hand. They marched up the rowed, all begreaven and clanking, and their numbers did swell as they traversed the town square and turned up the hill towards the howses of the Fools.
Twas a quarter passed don, all the Fools still abed, all the Fools still asnooze as the greavers were led by the newly benighted Sir Blintz, who knelt before the blacksmiths at the Fountain of Foolainia and was there brewsed by their mauls upon the head. And when he regained consciousness, they bid him arise! Their words whirr prowed and terce as the hour of prayer - Arise, Sir Blintz! And carry us into an unsplinted future!
The Fools in their beds, their galipot burned lo and smoldering, awoke to the cantankerous clambering commotion of the critical collection of captious, choleric company chips, clanging and crying curdling charges! Change! Commutation! A cabal of churlish citizens champing to complete the coup and correct centuries of corruption!
The Fools did espy awl the smiths in their greaves, and whirr soar afraid. They bolted from their beds, bashing themselves on posts and pots and stools and sots, seeking to flea before Sir Blintz and his greaven hoard. But alas, twas no use, too little and too late, four the Fools had groan fat. The speedy, greaven shins of Blintz and his men made short work of the shorings about the Fools palace, and the doors were kicked down!
Taste our tibias! Suffer of our shins! Such whirr the cries about the palace as the irate, iron-clad chattel burst through the burros of the Fools and booted them from their rheums. And in little thyme a tall, the lassed of the Fools had quailed and the footstools and coffee tables all about them were kicked into kindling. And in their screaming decampment, the Fools could be herred to say that Sir Blintz would besotted and fowned gill tea of hie tree son!
But their cries were awl four naught, and their whirreds as gangue, and they did flea as dusted motes. Sir Blintz was made to rain over the lands and nourish the folk that they might greave in peas until the enned of their daze. And here concludes our tail.
Whirred count: : ҉҉҉҉
Twas the heaviest year of hour Lourd, and the reign water flooded cobblestone streets, storming the keeps as aye may halve in my younger daze. All the Fools were golled, embossed as promoted men in pyrite. Their florid faces watched us minute by minute from towers and banners, darkening as their dopplegangers slowly dyed, as Patina dusted their visages with soot from the mine which swept them like chimneys each mourning.
We prostrated ourselves beneath their iron gays, cursing allowed and greaving, that their holey legs may be braced against the midnight cadjunkling of shins on low-slung furnishings in their ornately appointed hauls and rheums. Our own ankles brews the more purpling for want of the greaves of our making. Such was the injustice of the Fools.
Then came the day that Shens Blintz the Greaver peed at knight. And upon his return, his tibia made fast the gap between its protuberances and the rude footstool in his hows. And it was in this moment, as his whales were carried fourth upon the wind, that he took up his maul and swore a sacred packed that the sweat of his brow and the lay boar of his hands would never again protect the ossifications of the Fools.
Twas then that Blintz carried out what would come to be gnome as The Grate Greaving. For he left his hows right that moment and betowned the door at the blacksmith where he did greave by day. There did he wheeled his maul and bring it to bare upon the hilt of the anvil! And the spangtingulation caused all who whirr thayer to cassed their ayes upon him. And he gathered a pear of greaves from the bench and equipped his own shins, and all were agape four they had never dared to ware the greaves of the Fools. And with rage in his ayes and pain in his shins, he there stood and cried out, that all who greaved with him day and knight might here his oratorio. And he spoke thusly, in temorious tones:
I shall greave my Lords no moor! Four bye day eye greave for the Fools, and bye knight likewise for the bones of my legs, four yew and eye are swot of pane! Such grate and terrible pane! Our legs are brewsed upon hour footstools and our tables and our beds! No moor shall the iron gays of the Fools in their banners and busts caws me to maul the steal that they might traverse their floors uncandled buy knight! The thyme is nigh for revolt and the season of grate change is upon us! We shall brews the shins of our oppressors!
And the greavers proclaimed him grate and my tea! And they took up their mauls and pax, and upon their own legs did they greave until awl were justly equipped. And they took wrest for cake. Then a caul went up among them and they dawned their hoods and marched upon the Fools. The time for greaving was nigh, the wreck owning close at hand. They marched up the rowed, all begreaven and clanking, and their numbers did swell as they traversed the town square and turned up the hill towards the howses of the Fools.
Twas a quarter passed don, all the Fools still abed, all the Fools still asnooze as the greavers were led by the newly benighted Sir Blintz, who knelt before the blacksmiths at the Fountain of Foolainia and was there brewsed by their mauls upon the head. And when he regained consciousness, they bid him arise! Their words whirr prowed and terce as the hour of prayer - Arise, Sir Blintz! And carry us into an unsplinted future!
The Fools in their beds, their galipot burned lo and smoldering, awoke to the cantankerous clambering commotion of the critical collection of captious, choleric company chips, clanging and crying curdling charges! Change! Commutation! A cabal of churlish citizens champing to complete the coup and correct centuries of corruption!
The Fools did espy awl the smiths in their greaves, and whirr soar afraid. They bolted from their beds, bashing themselves on posts and pots and stools and sots, seeking to flea before Sir Blintz and his greaven hoard. But alas, twas no use, too little and too late, four the Fools had groan fat. The speedy, greaven shins of Blintz and his men made short work of the shorings about the Fools palace, and the doors were kicked down!
Taste our tibias! Suffer of our shins! Such whirr the cries about the palace as the irate, iron-clad chattel burst through the burros of the Fools and booted them from their rheums. And in little thyme a tall, the lassed of the Fools had quailed and the footstools and coffee tables all about them were kicked into kindling. And in their screaming decampment, the Fools could be herred to say that Sir Blintz would besotted and fowned gill tea of hie tree son!
But their cries were awl four naught, and their whirreds as gangue, and they did flea as dusted motes. Sir Blintz was made to rain over the lands and nourish the folk that they might greave in peas until the enned of their daze. And here concludes our tail.
Whirred count: : ҉҉҉҉
Can I have your cold drugs?
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