In a land before time there was a king. He was not a particularly well-liked or beloved king, not feared or hated. He was just kind of king. The people of this land before time were just regular people, going about their days of buying and selling squirrel scrotums -- not for any particular reason, but it seemed the thing to do -- and writing editorials on the kingdom next door of people who refused to wear pants. One day a young man, not much older than a squidget, had an idea. "Perhaps we should be more ambitious," he thought to himself aloud since through some fluke of design the Slimbottish people lacked the ability to think internally, thus making it a rather annoyingly loud land as well. "Perhaps we should try to make a difference in the world," he thought again, having promptly forgotten the thought before. At that very moment, the hearts of the Slimbottish people were joined together in unison, a oneness not felt in that land since the Great Slimbosh of 3342994 (incedentally that was when the Great Flag of the Land of MacMayton was designed and adopted). In case you were wondering, a Slimbosh is kind of like chicken pox, but without the ability to scratch. [image=http://www.offtopicboards.com/personal/slimbot.gif] The people, being for once so full of optimism and hope, joined in song in the 4,200 foot high Town Hall, which was distinct in its short stature compared to the dual-climate home owned by most of the lower-class Slimbots. Thanks to the inability to think internally, all rich Slimbots could not hide their money from the tax assessors, and therefore the federal government had unlimited funds in which to flip the classes. So as it were, the rich were no longer the rich, but the poor were. However in a fit of laziness the Slimbots decided not to swap the class terms thus accounting for the very large houses of the destitue. But anyway, back to the singing. It wasn't particularly good singing -- in fact most would consider it most decidedly bad singing. There was much consumption of Twinkies (the official food of the Slimbots) and diet cola -- by the poor of course, as the rich couldn't afford such luxuries. This is when I arrived. At first I celebrated with them, nodded toward their king in his rags (the whole rich/poor thing again) and hit on a chick who was on vacation from the pantsless land next door. Then I had an idea. And unlike the Slimbots, I could think it, not say it, which gave me a strategic advantage. I would use the most simple, least clever plan, but since I knew what they were thinking, but they didn't know what I was thinking, it would work. And it did. The details aren't important, just be assured that within 5 hours, I was crowned Mighty Lord of the Haven of MacMayton, as I had had this nameless land renamed in the first two hours. The old ways have passed and the people have embraced capitalism (which is great for me, because they have no ambition whatsoever). The rich are again rich and the poor poor, as it should be. Of course I am the richest, and I am proud to say that I have done it all on the backs of the poor and rich alike. Also, we now have official relations with the pantsless country next door, but have not had a chance to ask the name of the country or its inhabitants. I mean really, c'mon, they're not wearing pants! Who cares what they're called? We also have a Texas Hold 'Em tournament every other Thursday in the Town Hall.