In a time where men were truly men and Peruvian women sang heavenly choruses to their deities, a lone figure stood atop the bloated corpse of the two-eyed cyclops and celebrated his triumphant victory over the unattainable beast. Festivities from the grateful gnomes soon followed and the FictionalHero was placed upon their highest throne of Gilgamesh. But as the celebration continued on into the night, and the wolverines did call out their mournful howls, and the wine did run like a perfect river, He knew it could not last...

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