Ah, there it is. My house. And good old Cleveland Street. How could I ever forget it? And there I am, with that dumb round face and... that stupid stocking cap. But no matter. Christmas was on its way. Lovely, glorious, beautiful Christmas... around which the entire kid year revolved. Downtown Hohman was prepared for its yearly bacchanalia of... peace on earth and good will to men. Higbees' corner window was traditionally a high-water mark... of the pre-Christmas season.
There are many places we could begin the next chapter of the legend of Ron Burgundy. This is one such place. However, we won't begin our tale here. No, our story begins in a place all newsmen dream of. In New York City.
It was a storm of judgment. For years, we had been hiding from oppression. Hiding from Napoleon's spies. But now nature was washing away the disease. I always knew, as with all things built on the wrong foundation, the farm would one day crumble. At last, the wait was over. The poisonous cement which held Napoleon's evil dream together was being washed away. I could taste it in the water. I was old, I was almost blind, but I can still remember.
In the movies, Dracula wears a cape, and some old English guy always manages to save the day at the last minute with crosses and holy water. But everybody knows the movies are full of (bleep). The truth is, it started with (Title Character), and it ended with him. The rest of us were just along for the ride.
There are kagillions of stories of mischief and fun, but to keep things simple, let's start with just one... about a mom and two kids and a house and a hat, that oddly enough was worn by a cat. But soon enough, we will get to all that.
We're lucky to be in the city. They say the war was terrible, that the rest of the world was destroyed. Our founders built the wall to keep us safe, and they divided us into five groups, factions, to keep the peace... Because we're public servants, we're trusted to run the government. My father works alongside our leader, Marcus. It all works. Everyone knows where they belong. Except for me.
Through the snow, and sleet, and hail / Through the blizzard, through the gale / Through the wind and through the rain / Over mountain, over plain / Through the blinding lightning flash / And the mighty thunder crash / Ever faithful, ever true / Nothing stops him, he'll get through.
How do you do? My name is Deems Taylor, and it's my very pleasant duty to welcome you here on behalf of Walt Disney, Leopold Stokowski, and all the other artists and musicians whose combined talents went into the creation of this new form of entertainment, '__________'.
My dear Frodo, you asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures. And while I can honestly say I've told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it. I am old, Frodo. I am not the same hobbit as I once was. It is time for you to know what really happened.
This land has a name today, and is marked on maps. But, the names and the marks and the maps all had to be won, won from nature and from primitive man.
Once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom. There lay a small village at the edge of the woods. And in this village, lived a young maiden... a carefree young lad... and a childless baker... with his wife. The poor girl's parents had died, and now she lived with her stepmother, who had two daughters of her own. All three were beautiful of face, but vile and black of heart. The young lad had no father and his mother - she was at her wit's end.
In the third millennium, the world changed. Climate, nations, all were in upheaval. The Earth transformed into a poisonous, scorched desert, known as 'The Cursed Earth'. Millions of people crowded into a few megacities, where roving bands of street savages created violence the justice system could not control. The law collapsed. From the decay rose a new order, a society ruled by a new, elite force. A force with the power to dispense both justice and punishment. They were the judges..
Obviously, I miscalculated a few things. Why is it that, the moment in your life exceeds your wildest dreams... 'The Knife' appears in your back. Well, I'll tell you one thing... I will never let them touch me. My neighbor, must have opened his door to complain. For a guy with a 4 digit IQ, I must have missed something... and I hadn't missed much. I'd come this close to having an impact in the world. And now, the only thing I had an impact on... was the sidewalk.
...The average temperature here, at the bottom of the Earth, is a balmy 58 degrees below; that is when the Sun is out. It wasn't always like this. Antarctica used to be a tropical place, densely forested, teeming with life, but then the continent began to drip South and by the time it was done drifting, the dense forests had all been replaced with a new brown color: ice.
5,000 years ago... a fierce warrior known as the Scorpion King... led a great army on a campaign... to conquer the known world. After a vicious campaign... the Scorpion King and his army were defeated... and driven deep into the sacred desert of Ahm Shere. One by one, they slowly perished under the scorching sun... until only the great warrior himself was left alive. Near death... the Scorpion King made a pact with the dark god Anubis... that if Anubis would spare his life... and let him conquer his enemies... he would give him his soul. Anubis accepted his offer and spared his life.
My story begins in London, not so very long ago. And yet so much has happened since then, that it seems more like an eternity. At that time, I lived with my pet, in a bachelor's flat just off Regent's Park. It was a beautiful spring day, which is a time for bachelors. Oh, that's my pet, Roger. Roger Radcliffe. A musician of sorts. (Chuckles) No, I'm the one with spots. My name's Pongo.
You know, there's been a heap of legends and tall tales about (title character). All different too. Well, we folks of the animal kingdom have our own version. It's the story of what really happened in Sherwood Forest./>
Winds in the east / Mist coming in / Like something is brewing / About to begin / Can't put me finger / On what lies in store / But I feel what's to happen / All happened before.
She looks at me everyday. Mary Jane Watson. Oh boy! If she only knew how I felt about her. But she can never know. I made a choice once to live a life of responsibility. A life she can never be a part of. Who am I? I'm (title character), given a job to do. And I'm Peter Parker, and I too have a job.
It has been said that magic vanished from our world a long time ago, and that humanity can no longer fulfill its desires through the power of wishes. To those who have lost the wondrous vision of childhood eyes, submitted here is the story of a little boy and a magical Christmas wish that changed his life forever.
My dear children: It is now better than several years since I moved to New York, and I haven't seen you as much as I would like to. I hope you will come to the ceremony of papal honors given for my charitable work. The only wealth in this world is children; more than all the money, power on earth, you are my treasure.
Having reached the end of my poor sinner's life, my hair now white, I prepare to leave on this parchment my testimony as to the wondrous and terrible events that I witnessed in my youth, towards the end of the year of our Lord 1327. May God grant me the wisdom and grace to be the faithful chronicler of the happenings that took place in a remote abbey in the dark north of Italy. An abbey whose name it seems, even now, pious and prudent to omit.
Long before the birth of light, there was darkness. And from that darkness came the Dark Elves. Millennia ago, the most ruthless of their kind, Malekith, sought to transform our universe back into one of eternal night. Such evil was possible through the power of the Aether, an ancient force of infinite destruction.
In the winter of 1969, an elite force of the US Army was sent on a top secret assignment in southeast Vietnam. The objective: rescue Sgt. Four Leaf Tayback from a heavily guarded NVA prison camp. The mission was considered to be near-suicide. Of the ten men sent, four returned. Of those four, three wrote books about what happened. Of those three, two were published. And of those two, only one got a movie deal. This is the story of the men who attempted to make that movie.
The future: a dark, desolate world. A world of war, suffering, loss on both sides. Mutants, and the humans who dared to help them, fighting an enemy we cannot defeat. Are we destined down this path, destined to destroy ourselves like so many species before us? Or can we evolve fast enough to change ourselves... change our fate? Is the future truly set?
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