With a final blow, the giants brought the royals to an end.
"Now we'll never be royals," said the larger of the giants.
"but we might as well be purple!"
"Uhhh, yeah, or we could just stay the colors we are now," Sam added, with a serious dose of side-eye.
Gandalf, irked by Sam's piss-poor attitude, remarked "ah, to hell with it all" and decided to hire Gimli as a hit man.
Normally he wouldn't risk hiring such a tactless assassin--the ginger dwarf was known for messy slaughter and boisterous victory cries--but his patience was strained beyond the point of breaking.
Strained like the peas served to dumb babies.
100 years passed.
Everything changed.
And long after, amidst the ruins of a silent world, a new thing awoke; neither man nor beast, it hungered.
This was a serious hunger, too: Taco Bell wouldn't be enough to satisfy it.
With a solemn chill and a gaze toward the West, I knew what I needed to do and where I needed to go.
I needed to wear the zentai suit to Disney World.
If I didn't, I would be hauled up on charges by the exposure enforcement squads—God bless them, but a man should be able to show a little chin without being accused of indecency.
With my exposed chin hanging out for the whole world to see, I needed to take the edge off, so I headed for the local coffee shop.
I asked a local, "HEY, HICK, WHERE CAN I GETTA CUPPA JOE THIS TIMEA NIGHT?"
He grumbled in response, "boogers, everywhere, boogers, in my hair, on the barbershop post, everywhere, what do I do" and walked away.
As he pulled the boogers out of his hair, wiping them on his pants, he wondered if he should pursue his dream of becoming a video games journalist.
"Becoming a video games journalist is no easy task," he thought, as he pondered whether he loved video games and pussy enough to preform well in such an overwhelming and demanding profession.
His eclectic cat breeding business consumed most of his time, leaving hardly any time to review the latest games concerning the plight and toil of this planet's frail human race.
Upon finding out that his two best cats, Lewis & Clark, were lost by a glitchy cyborg, his plans to review the latest games were now set in motion, but he couldn't imagine where to begin.
The preceding was a story you participated in on Thursday, October 30 2014. The sentence in bold is yours.
Story prompt by Anonymous (does not have the express written consent of Major League Baseball). Sentences in this story path were contributed by inky, cblgh, nicolerza, Alissa, Luz, mark, @derekarnold, dbaker, bp, Vapourmatt, John Holdun, Butt O'Connor, zigg, Casey Kolderup, SS Ghot Z, eden rohatensky, waluigi, James Quinn, Brian Anderson, and Efren.