It starts off a little something like this:
We are all good friends.
That is; till death or conflicts do us apart.
What conflict, you say?
Why, that stubby trunk of giggles ate my cookie.
If there's one thing I hate, it's cookie burglars.
No one steals my cookies.
No one.
And it was the sticky one with melted chips and gooey bits, too.
So
I raised my fist,
A declaration of war.
Comrades are non-existent unless they share the same pain-
Taking their cookie away was a strategy.
Oh yes, I am smart.
The war zone is already filled with cries of anguish
Pudgy cannons in the air,
Ready to take my side.
This is where I strike,
Because, well, I strategize like that.
Waddling over, my vision blurring, my steps unsteady,
I take aim.
One,
Two,
Three.
Beneath the chaos is a burning desire to exact revenge.
Following my lead-
Hey, don't look at me like that.
I'm a natural leader-
Following my lead,
They rush forward,
A slow amble,
A time movement both painful and sticky.
Comrades defeat opponents,
Snatching up what would have been theirs in the first place
Collating treasure not for the leader buy themselves.
But of course, there too are a few slimy ones who squish and glue themselves to their territory, hiding their share of the treasure beneath smudged shirts.
Those---are the clever ones.
But not as clever as me!
For I have raided five times worth my loss
I have gotten revenge,
Led a revolution,
Inspired a massacre,
And none of them had for a second their radars trained on me.
They fear--- They follow.
And I, Lead.
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