Once upon a time there was a king who consumed alcohol at an extreme rate. He couldnt function without putting a bottle in his mouth, to the point where he was crippled. The only cure for his horrendous addiction laid at the foot of the largest mountain in the realm. Unfortunately, the mountain was very dangerous, and littered with goblins who carried sharp knifes. They would congregate around the unlucky spot where the travelers had entered. The king had sent a mighty force to retrieve the cure, intent on removing the foul beasts that blocked his path to the cure. Finally, a battle broke out across the mountain. Goblins swarmed the kings soldiers, voraciously swinging their blades and shrieking evil profanities even uttering words which mere mortals could not comprehend. Blood pooled into the soil, turning the once grey stone red and cursed. News reached the kingdom, and a common peasant realized with distress that he had the most simplest shlong of which citizens gazed upon. It possessed even more elasticity than glue. The king cried because he discovered that the army had fallen, forever condemning the king to his addiction. However, the king noticed that the cure was never near the mountain. It was actually the shlong, which the king gratefully removed from the peasant, feasting joyfully on its rubbery shaft. The addiction vanished at the last bite
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