|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
TGMR: Does your yak have a name?
TKY: To those of Yakish ancestry, the name is most sacred. He has a name, but it is not known to thi likes of you or I...even if we had the blessing of knowing his name, we would most likely not be able to pronounce it. For now we shall just refer to him as my Yak(capitalized).
As far as the Story of Sloth Warrior goes we shall begin when the Sloth race began...
Long, long ago, in a universe far, far away...[Sloth slaps his forehead for starting with the prologue to Star Wars]...Anyway...In the prehistory of the fair land known as Anduin, many beasts roamed the land. The dominant species was a monstrous being, four to five meters in height, covered in long, shaggy fur. They were primitive beings, walking upright some of the time, while making use of all four limbs at other times. Carnivorous, they hunted their food with long, razor-sharp teeth and massive paws donning five deadly curves each.
As these beings, commonly referred to as Megaloslothaurus, developed a sense of society and intelligence, they were harkened by a desire to worship a deity. It was when this worship became a religion and climaxed that the Schism took place. The Giant Sloths began to quarrel amongst sects differing in dogma. Many began to question the validity of their religion. Divisions occurred; tension increased. Finally war broke out. The Giant Sloths slaughtered one another under the ironic intension of Holy Crusade.
When all seemed lost, a bolt of salad dressing broke forth from the Heavens. Hordes of cheese did fall--Star Cheese. The voice of the True Deity spoke thus:
"Your foolish war makes me sad. I have decided to amend what has been wronged, and so I must eradicate every one of you (those that are still left) and squash your bug of a god!"
With that He let out a burst of maniacal laughter [we are all familiar with that] and sent down his four-pronged weapon of Truth down upon the cursed race of beasts.
The Schism was this act. The Megaloslothaurus was no more; but in its place two new races. Although similar in appearance, they bore a few distinctions. One was generally gaunt and sharp-featured; the other brawny and lumbering. They were Sloths of a different ilk.
Two claws per limb made the Choloepods, the Two-toed Sloths.
Three clawed beasts were the Bradyn, the Three-toed Sloths.
[Sloth Warrior turns heel as he ends his story. He returns next time to tell of the New God and his Holy Weapon. Thoughtfully he scratches his chin with three honed claws]
The historic tale which had previously left off with the Great Schism of the Giant Sloth into the Bradyn and Choloepods continues now with the emergence of a revised version of an old forgotten religion...
As of now the new two- and three-toed races of Sloth were under utter and total chaos. Their world turned upside-down before their eyes and they reverted to barbarism.
But a Light shone through the clouds of destruction. 'Twas but a thing you or I would simply look over, but a beacon of pure radiance to the Sloths. It blazed forth from a location at the summit of a great mountain that stood upon the Battlefield of Desecration. The masses stared in awe of this spectacle. It shone brighter than any star and brought more comfort than the sun itself.
Braving the rocky and reacherous slopes would be only the strong and the pure. Many a day of toilsome scaling passed without mercy; the party of Sloths nevertheless pushed on. 'Twas shy of a miracle that they cleared the last cliff and struck the last rock to behold the Summit and the mystery it bore. They stood unmoving.
Before the party stood but a squat, lean tree with gnarled and twisted branches, defended by briars. Hanging from several of these unsightly branches were loaves of the long-forgotten WONDERMEAT!
The Sloths were suddenly behumbled in this shrubs prescence. They bowed low.
Then they were answered thus from the sky above:
"You have proven yourselves worthy! Now eat of the Holy Wondermeat...SPAM! And let its juice coarse through each vein in your bodies. Only then shall I accept your souls into my Kingdom. Take but one back with you; it will father the growth of thousands more! May your people rejoice in its splendor and worship of the spamGOD!"
But one Sloth had the courage to ask a question. "However shall we return? Surely we will not make it back down this mountain!"
The SpamGOD spake:
"Do not worry my Son! You have just volunteered to lead the way!"
With that, a shard of light glinted from above and fell to the earth near the speaker's feet. It sizzled and popped, steaming the air. It cooled off to reveal the symbol of the First of the Seven Lords of SPAM: the Holy WarSPORK! A weapon of superb craftsmanship forged in the Fires of Githan, it molded to the Sloth's hand and became his own forever.
He struck its Tines upon the ground and cleft the mountain in twain; stairs rose from the center of the earth and led the party down to safety.
From then on, the Slothen races worshipped their SPAM and were led by the First of the Seven, Spiffy the Keen. He forged the alliance heretofore known as Priests Revered of the SPAM Mandate (PROSM).
[Sloth looks down at the plaid pattern on his kilt. Spiffy was the first to weave the design]
You may be wondering why I bear myself a WarSPORK upon my back...that's another story...