User:Guffawing Crow/Children of Lir

From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia

Jump to: navigation, search
For those without comedic tastes, the so-called experts at Wikipedia have an article about Children of Lir.

The Children of Lir is a Wikilegend. Like most old stories it contains a moral; predictably, a lesson to be learned about the folly of human behavior.

In Celtic mythology, Lir ("the sea") was the god of the sea, master of many, but slave to none. That is, until he was held captive by Sneachta the Frigid, then thrown into the abyss by the decree of the other gods of the Pantheon.

But Lir did not rest. He recast himself in a new image, and from his flesh he bore many others, also in his image, but bearing different names. But, as the poet William Shakespeare once wrote, "a sock by any other name would smell as acrid."

Alas, the people were not fooled. They still remembered the days of old, when Lir moved amongst the flock unseen, poisoning the land with each step of each foot, and speaking in a fiery tongue, flaming and provoking without cause or care.

Knowing that Lir would continue to surround himself with his own golems while seeking the protection of the King, the people took matters into their own hands. They created golems of their own, and sent them to do battle with the forces of Lir.

Some stood to the side, begging for pause, pointing toward the good that Lir had done, but those that fought shook their heads.

"Hearken to the Second Rule of Chron," they said. And so they did consult the Official Rulebook, and there they found the answer, in small print at the bottom of page 93. And it was the scholars that realized that Old Chron's rule was also one that the Ancient Pantheon had also long held true, and that had led to Lir's banishment all those minutes ago.

And so the battle raged on. And Lir begged for protection from the King, but was denied, until a Knight of the King intervened out of pity and did help Lir. And the people were angered. And Lir did promise to go away, never to return, but he did not. And the people knew that his passing would have been an illusion anyway, with his golems already firmly in place.

And so the battle raged on.

And on.

And still on.

And on a bit more.

Then took a left to have a quick spot of lunch at this delightful little bistro that you'd never believe could serve such a scrumptious little salad for only a few coppers.

Then it took a nap by the side of the road, before finally realising, "Good Lord! Is that the time? Back to it, then."

Actually, as much as I enjoy a little narration from time to time, I really must get back to constructing another golem. They aren't built in a day, you know. And so long as Lir never rests, neither can I. There is a moral in there somewhere.

I think.

Look under the bed. If you've lost something, it's nearly always there.

Personal tools