Find contentit was a dark and stormy night, and papa goose and baby goose sat around the campfire.
"tell us a story, old man!" and this is the story he told.
it was a dark and stormy night, and papa goose and baby goose sat around the campfire.
"tell us a story, old man!" and this is the story he told.
it was a dark and stormy night, and papa goose and jacqueline carey, author of the companion of pain's legacy,
sat around the campfire, which is a mystery, but this is the story she told:
the aunties and the uncles played volleyball while the youngster hunted plants to make purple orbs to feed the baby goose.
it was a dark and stormy night, and sequency and simultaneity argued around the campfire. it gets dark and stormy when you look away from the campfire, but hoop snakes always look toward it again half the time and honey badgers don't care.
sometimes survivors burn on so that their story can be told, so the dreadlord (se) was majorly bummed when a baby goose devoured its undead flesh alone without passing 1000.
the baby goose learned perspective from pablobison, who said, "it's only stam."
the baby goose used to squawk at monsterplayers plucking its feathers, but now it enjoys the tickles even at the loss of shiny exp(atriots).
once baby goose learned that the ghosts aren't real, it started to enjoy the rest of life, too, and became less concerned with fast-forwarding to the ending or going back to the beginning, but living, as we do, in the middle.
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(with respect to ursula k. le guin, who wrote, "it was a dark and stormy night; or, why are we huddling about the campfire?" not knowing that baby geese like to steal)