There was a child, aye, a child who was in charge of the libr'ry.
He was a fun guy, a Happy guy, rapped rap'dly.
Always takin' care of 'is brothers,
aye, even if they didn' care fer him, ye.
You know what happ'n? Do ya?
Listen.
This tale 'ere is the death of that child.
You see, I was prom'sd a battle, by Grim'nr.
Aye.
That one-eyed Blue cunt owed me, ye.
Insted, he watch'd the Black one go after the Libr'ry.
The Monster, ye, they called 'im.
He went to the Libr'ry and found 'im. Good ol' Happy jus' sittin' there,
organiz'ng 'is books.
The Monster was lookin' fer keys. Yes. Keys to the new worlds, ye see?
Happy had one.
"No...No, you're not real. Who are you?" He implor'd.
"I... don't have... a name. They called me monster--but look at you. There. Holding all these books--this power...like you...you...like you deserve it?"
"You're not real, Mister Monster! Go away!"
"The...the key. Now."
The Monster approach'd good ol' Happy. Happy was scar'd, ye, he knew then, at that moment, that the Monster *was* real then.
The Monster, twisting his fingers up in the air, made a motion,
his power--unstoppable.
Happy scream'd. He yelled as loud as his little lungs allow'd him to, ye.
That's when I knew--I knew he call'd on me, ye.
"God King!" I ran, but alas, ye, I was too fockin' late.
The Monster ripp'd his little yellow heart out. His chest, ripp'd open!
"No! You fockin' cunt! You will regret doin' this!" I also scream'd as loud as I could. But I was, like I said, too late.
The Monster ripp'd a key from Happy's heart, ye. He look'd at me and smiled.
"The God King. Yes. I have heard the stories about you. If you get in my way... I promise you... that battle that Odin owes you. I will give you war. And you... you will not survive it."
The Monster then vanish'd, fockin' teleport'd or som'n. I do not know.
I ran to Happy. He laid there, on the ground of the Libr'ry. His hollow eyes...emotionless. His chest-- ripp'd wide open.
It's been close to almost a month aft'r 'is death, and 'is blood still cov'rs the Libr'ry's floor.
I cannot clean it. Wash it.
Then I ran into 'im. Yes.
Ol' Red.
Now he mourns dear ol' Happy.
All he can do.
And Odin? That One-Eyed Blue cunt?
This is all 'is fault!
But I will not follow my story, you old cunt!
Fock you.
I will show ye what true war looks like!
When I rip ye nasty mug of yer skin, and spit on it on the ground!
"Créd as co tarlaid an cac-sa-dam? Nach lór rofhulangas? Is lór chena, níam olc! Níam!"
He was a fun guy, a Happy guy, rapped rap'dly.
Always takin' care of 'is brothers,
aye, even if they didn' care fer him, ye.
You know what happ'n? Do ya?
Listen.
This tale 'ere is the death of that child.
You see, I was prom'sd a battle, by Grim'nr.
Aye.
That one-eyed Blue cunt owed me, ye.
Insted, he watch'd the Black one go after the Libr'ry.
The Monster, ye, they called 'im.
He went to the Libr'ry and found 'im. Good ol' Happy jus' sittin' there,
organiz'ng 'is books.
The Monster was lookin' fer keys. Yes. Keys to the new worlds, ye see?
Happy had one.
"No...No, you're not real. Who are you?" He implor'd.
"I... don't have... a name. They called me monster--but look at you. There. Holding all these books--this power...like you...you...like you deserve it?"
"You're not real, Mister Monster! Go away!"
"The...the key. Now."
The Monster approach'd good ol' Happy. Happy was scar'd, ye, he knew then, at that moment, that the Monster *was* real then.
The Monster, twisting his fingers up in the air, made a motion,
his power--unstoppable.
Happy scream'd. He yelled as loud as his little lungs allow'd him to, ye.
That's when I knew--I knew he call'd on me, ye.
"God King!" I ran, but alas, ye, I was too fockin' late.
The Monster ripp'd his little yellow heart out. His chest, ripp'd open!
"No! You fockin' cunt! You will regret doin' this!" I also scream'd as loud as I could. But I was, like I said, too late.
The Monster ripp'd a key from Happy's heart, ye. He look'd at me and smiled.
"The God King. Yes. I have heard the stories about you. If you get in my way... I promise you... that battle that Odin owes you. I will give you war. And you... you will not survive it."
The Monster then vanish'd, fockin' teleport'd or som'n. I do not know.
I ran to Happy. He laid there, on the ground of the Libr'ry. His hollow eyes...emotionless. His chest-- ripp'd wide open.
It's been close to almost a month aft'r 'is death, and 'is blood still cov'rs the Libr'ry's floor.
I cannot clean it. Wash it.
Then I ran into 'im. Yes.
Ol' Red.
Now he mourns dear ol' Happy.
All he can do.
And Odin? That One-Eyed Blue cunt?
This is all 'is fault!
But I will not follow my story, you old cunt!
Fock you.
I will show ye what true war looks like!
When I rip ye nasty mug of yer skin, and spit on it on the ground!
"Créd as co tarlaid an cac-sa-dam? Nach lór rofhulangas? Is lór chena, níam olc! Níam!"