<span style="color
arkOrchid">There once was a very old man, who, as a boy, found a shiny emerald rock in a river. He asked it for money, fame, fortune, but nothing happened. He kept it away in a box under his bed for many years to pass....
Soon enough, old and weary, he realized he was dying. He took the rock up the highest mountain in the land, braving and daring rabid beasts and jagged rocks hundred of feet below him.
After thirty days of climbing, he finally made it to the top, so high up, every inch of it was covered in frost. He used every ounce of his strength to pull the rock out of his bag, and hold it up into the air for the sun to shine upon...And he uttered these words:
"Great, almighty, magical Rock! Lend me the power to live for all eternity! And if not, enough strength to climb down this mountain!"
The ground began to rumble, and the frost shook so hard that it cracked and peeled around him. He grasped his battered and torn robe as he saw something form out of the thick shroud of clouds surrounding the mountain...
A jetliner flew by and sucked him into it's wing turbine, dispelling his organs and blood everywhere.
Moral of this story?
[Spoiler] Magical Rocks don't exist. [/Spoiler]</span>
arkOrchid">There once was a very old man, who, as a boy, found a shiny emerald rock in a river. He asked it for money, fame, fortune, but nothing happened. He kept it away in a box under his bed for many years to pass....Soon enough, old and weary, he realized he was dying. He took the rock up the highest mountain in the land, braving and daring rabid beasts and jagged rocks hundred of feet below him.
After thirty days of climbing, he finally made it to the top, so high up, every inch of it was covered in frost. He used every ounce of his strength to pull the rock out of his bag, and hold it up into the air for the sun to shine upon...And he uttered these words:
"Great, almighty, magical Rock! Lend me the power to live for all eternity! And if not, enough strength to climb down this mountain!"
The ground began to rumble, and the frost shook so hard that it cracked and peeled around him. He grasped his battered and torn robe as he saw something form out of the thick shroud of clouds surrounding the mountain...
A jetliner flew by and sucked him into it's wing turbine, dispelling his organs and blood everywhere.
Moral of this story?
[Spoiler] Magical Rocks don't exist. [/Spoiler]</span>