Beyond the darkness lies a kingdom shrouded in greenish light. This is Sparta Majoris, sparkliest nation of Madness. Here waits Kloraag; the keeper doombringer. He ejaculated many bees which founded bee-rocracy.

Evil strongly enjoyed dancing through minds that hosted the fearful dreams, nightmares, frat demons... and babycatpictures.

Here Adventurers sauntered listlessly with funny water that made purple elephants rejoice. Engorging yellow stuff leaked out creamy goodness, delicious. It tasted citrusy. Although frankly it made limes sour.

Nobody sucked Kloraag's cactus. For lipsticks smeared messily on carpet that expired before babies were devoured by gluten activists. Kloraag always wanted vigorous exercise while AC/DC played Thunderstruck loudly. He gargled much mead with Nefertiti and Khan, thirsting always for sinful steak.

Sweet blueberries sang metal melons, garishly boasted petunias ballads.

Malcolm Kumquat likes to flick flies, surprise, sunrise cries "LIES!" against the moist fray.

Until recently...

Malcolm's hope lay sprung from Jedi irrigation