affame_le_geant_the_king's_loss fyn gula king mal stood, hands in the pockets of his khaki work cargo pants, looking down at the massive hole where his treasured jonamac tree once grew. although the measure and depth of his shock and horror could never be adequately described, it is sufficient and acceptable to say he was utterly devastated. great tears leaked from his saddened eyes and fell into the chasm. his shoulders shook with grief as if the loss was as great as the loss of a child. he surveyed the damage alone since a crime scene investigator had not arrived yet. he attempted to find clues on who or what could have done it and why. all he saw was a ghastly hole where his beloved tree used to be. he kicked clods of dirt about, exploding them with his anger. he could not help but gaze over at the other magnificent specimens with a creeping paranoia. sentinels would have to be stationed in secret locations to observe potential perpetrators. members of the royal black dragon guard would be set in force around the surviving trees, heavily armed for protection to the death. king mal wondered to himself what was holding up saumboo. it was about this time that the good idea was visiting with him. and so when the king bent down to pick up the only piece of root remaining to forever immortalize that a tree was even ever there in that spot, it was then that saumboo had the revelation about truth. and just as saumboo heard the king call his name, he had dialed 911 and it was ringing. he put his head out the window. "i finally got through," saumboo said, looking relieved, yet he wondered if his nose would start growing again. 020409 what's it to you? who go blather from