Once upon a time at the foot of a great mountain, there was a town where the people known as Happy folks lived. Their very existence a mystery to the rest of the world, obscured as it was by great clouds. Here they played out their peaceful lives, innocents of the litany of excess and violence that was growing in the world below. To live in harmony with the spirit of the mountain called Monkey was enough. Then one day, Strange folks arrived in the town. They came in camouflaged, hidden behind dark glasses, and no one noticed them. They only saw shadows. You see, without the truth of the eyes, The Happy folks were blind. In time, Strange folks found their way Into the higher reaches of the mountain, and it was there that they found the caves of unimaginable sincerity and beauty. By chance, they stumbled upon the place where all good souls come to rest. The Strange folks, they coveted the jewels in these caves above all things. And soon they began to mine the mountain, it’s rich seam fueling the chaos of their own world. Meanwhile down in the town The Happy folks slept restlessly, their dreams Invaded by shadowy figures digging away at their souls. Every day, people would wake and stare at the mountain, Why was it bringing darkness into their lives ? And as the Strange folks mined deeper and deeper into the mountain, holes began to appear, bringing with them a cold and bitter wind that chilled up their souls. For the first time, the Happy folks felt fearful for because they knew that soon the Monkey would stir up from it’s deep sleep Then there came a sound. Distant first, it grew into castrophany, so immense that it could be heard far away in space. There were no screams. There was no time. The mountain called Monkey had spoken. There was only fire. And then… nothing.