You will be turning to me, pose everyone, we'll be so happy you'll be gone. But that's okay, the H-E-R-O-T. It's not that crappy if you a-suit your life-could-to-can-be-into-a-m-o-you-there-not-be-disappointed-one-size-du-in-to-this-all. This is where we take your taxes, where we make the weather-wanted beer-not-cam-its-so-don't-ask us how this meant the got-so-bons-and-this-job does not need a-to-creed-that-is-how-they-got-stuck-with-me-h-h-ne-f-d-f-s-for-help-get-you-see-so-I-can-a-for-there-up-tee. Man, there is a good reason but that don't tell with nothing. What do you mean? I need the freaking health benefits. I see. What about the history? The history that I can't go back to 11.25 an hour because I eat too much fast food and it's really hard to pay my bills. Okay, I'll admit that they usually say you should do it for the love of the job and not for the money, but the economy is really rough right now and this was the best I could get. You know what? Forget you. I'm gonna explain a little scene on style. Listen up, kids. Let's go back over a thousand years ago. Everything you know is owned by Celeste. In the tiny planet of grass, the fed on the sun, the tiny grass, up in the fed on the grass, the stick in the grass, the fed on the grass, up in the hole evil government. Food by Celeste, you all think you're trod beneath an iron wound. You're not invited to fight in by Celeste, you all hail company to the mighty God. Until one day, they came to war. Nightmare Mooms sweat from the sky, laser from her eyes and deep lifetimes. The power of a God was simply not enough to overcome her sister. The war had sacrificed a peace of her mind to the dark gods for a decent time. Hope seemed lost until the time that Celeste had developed a plan. Which one power to retain the rest? Sacrifice and turn was the gist. It's so many. What was one? This bound war must be done. It must be something she could do without a superfluous power that she could leave out. She prevailed them all, made her decision, she rested her choice, her prismatic precision. No more rainbows was her decree. The question he's told is, would day this be? But petty politics on another route, the electorate, would not do without. So the due evils, the pegassies, when they found the solution they began to cry. Oh, no! We can't prepare wipids without writing our youth into a fine mist of color, and that is the truth. Whatever we please for a great teleponsa fears, and the exit goal showed our greatest fears. We must make rainbows, there was no choice, the bone heads and the pony swallered out of the ways. And so, we built a machine.