So anyway, I was taking a stroll in Cyrene when I saw a crowd standing
around making a big commotion.


I'm curious, of course, so I wander over to see what's going on
and...well, you should'a seen it!


There were all flavours of folk there wringing their hands and weeping
and wailing -- it was quite the production!


Seems there was some sort of goings-on with this fancy temple or
some-such


...and, to be fair, it was a bit grim -- there was green smoke coming
out the roof, black stuff oozing out the door and a moaning sound coming
from inside.


In the middle of it all were these three fellers in dresses. The
grandest, in a very fancy white high-collared number, was asking the
other two for ideas...


The first one -- sporting multi-coloured couture of the finest silk,
tastefully accented with purple gems at the throat and hem-line -- was
all, 'The forces of Chaos, bent on our destruction, are forcing a path
from their plane unto ours -- the end is nigh!'


At which point the second feller -- jaunty little off-the-shoulder frock
in midnight green and...do I detect alpaca? -- interjects with, 'Nay,
'tis nature herself in revolt 'gainst the oppressive shackles of
sentient design forced upon her -- repent and return to the forest!'


All very dramatic! O' course, by this time I had my own ideas...I'm
jumping up and down and waving my arms like a madman but no one's paying
any attention so...


Insert slap-stick shtick here...possibly in very bad taste.


...which did the trick right fine! Now all eyes are on me and the Grand
Poobah says, 'Yes, fool?'


'Your highnesses...', say I, 'it seems to me that what you have here is,
well,...'s ill vestry. Give it a couple of aspirants and call me in the
morning!'


True story!

Cheers,
Tindr

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Lupar, in the year 569 AF.