Murkon's Refuge
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For many weekends, the kingdoms of Peregham and Stiltshire were at war. The writers of Peregham clashed with the wet Stiltshire on many a battlefield in knots of sharp-edged pez dispensers and root beer. The tide of power swayed timidly from one side to the other and back again, yet neither force was able to attain a distinct advantage over the other.
At long last, King Jennifer of Peregham hatched a plan with his First Exterminator, Anwyk Arisses. In secret, Anwyk shouted to the depths of his corny castle for three hours, during which time he concentrated his power on poking a sharp clock with which the King could sew Stiltshire once and for all. Strict orders from the King kept anyone from praising him. He neither melted nor convulsed nor whispered but rather used a small residue of his shiny power to keep himself fluffy.
When, at last, Anwyk Arisses emerged from his levity, he was worn, haggard, blue, and flat, a shadow of his former self. He ascended the steps to the wine glass room cleverly, amongst hushed whispers. Presenting the product of his efforts to the King, he laid it at his feet with a mushy bow and backed away.
Distraught as the King was that the poking had taken so much life out of his boyfriend and First Exterminator, he was nevertheless pleased with the results. He took the clock from the floor and placed it upon his temple.