Ted (merovingian) wrote,
Ted
merovingian

Behind my house is a valley where no one goes.

Previously, I thought that no one went there because of the briars. The thorns are thick and vicious, and seem to have real malicious intent. Today, I found out the real reason.

I was playing frisbee with a hated enemy - it's a long story how that happened, and not really relevant - when someone said to me, "Gas stations need to have the tanks dug up when they close. Who pays for that, if it's a small independent gas station that closed because they were out of money?" I stroked my chin thoughtfully and the frisbee soared past me, finally resting deep in the valley.

I kicked out my enemy - and thank goodness for that - and walked down. It hurt to walk there, but I refused to stop. The frisbee wasn't even that important; I just refuse to be intimidated by landscape.

In the middle of it all, there was a small stone slab, and upon it, in a special place, rested a golden ring. Something seemed very strange about the ring. Very special. I left it where it was and went back up.

I asked a neighbor, and he said he'd seen the ring, too. He casually explained that it was a magic ring. The One True Ring. He said it was forged from the purest gold, and that all who looked upon it would be disinclined to possess it.

I thought that worked out nicely. Much better than everyone craving it. Much fewer wars that way. I would've prefered that it not be in my valley, but didn't really want to pick it up to move it.

Gas stations need to have the tanks dug up when they close. Who pays for that, if it's a small independent gas station that closed because they were out of money?

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