In a far away kingdom, there lived a princess by the name of Paprika, who, for some reason, was actually respected as an equal during medieval times and who was physically capable of doing things most men couldn’t–and, no, I’m not talking about regular things like going pee sitting down or going through menopause. You see, Paprika could fly! And also she could do taxes really goodly, but more importantly SHE COULD FLY!
And so Paprika flew off into the wind and beat the crap out of some mystical dragon that popped out of nowhere which really wasn’t that mystical or even a dragon. In reality, it was actually two hosers dressed up to look like a dragon because, you know, they were hosers.
Then the citizens of the far away kingdom got pretty pissed off, because those two hosers were supposed to bring the ice cream to the annual FAK Festival to Celebrate Far-Away-Y-Ness. They stormed the castle, and Paprika was forced to fly to her fortress of solitude within the aptly named Death Mountain, so called because of its luscious panorama of the Fakian countryside as seen from Suicide Peak.
There she prayed to the almighty Vivianus, Goddess the of Cattle, for three days and two nights (she had to sleep some time, right?) as the citizens got slowly closer. On the morning of the fourth day, her prayers were answered, and a great moo resounded throughout the fortress.
“What the heck was that?” Paprika cried.
“It is I, Vivian the Great! I will help you strike down your enemies!” the cow goddess said.
And so the two of them left the fortress, only to discover that in her absence, Fakka had become an Utopian Republic, filled with knowledge and kindness and a large amount of cheese cake that had been tainted with Paprika’s private hashish stores.
“How can this be?” Paprika mumbled, stunned. “They have decided to government themselves? Preposterous! Vivian, O Mighty One, you must strike them down for their impudence!”
Vivian pondered this for a second. “Okay.”
TO BE CONTINUED…?