text: The wintry winds howl a horrible wail, whipping white watery snow against the weathered watchtower’s westernmost wall. Yes, it is indeed a dark and stormy night, but darker and stormier and maybe just a tad more purple than your run-of-the-mill dark and stormy night.
  
  
  Somewhere deep in the forest a unicorn frolics in a magical glade, as elves watch and scamper amongst the trees, polishing their bows with the blood of dwarves.
  
  
  “Killed a big fat one today, Elfrond,” says Elfmoor. “Bastard was trying to chop down a cherry tree. Can you believe it, a fucking cherry tree? Sacrilege.”
  
  
  “Have you ever wondered why we hate the dwarves so much?” asks Elfrond.
  
  
  “What do you mean? They’re fucking dwarves! And this one chopped down a tree. A cherry tree. Only thing that rivals my love of trees are cherries. And music. And song. And like five other things.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’ve just been thinking lately. How did we get these sweet bows, if we didn’t chop down a tree to shape them. And how do we burn fires without firewood? And why exactly do we hate the dwarves?”
  
  
  “It’s canon. Don’t ask questions.”
  
  
  “What’s a cannon?”
  
  
  Suddenly, the elves quit bickering. Something that only happens once in a thousand years occurs. The glade explodes with magical aura as the unicorn releases its legendary rainbow fart. Magical anomalies, such as this, signal only one thing: the birth of a hero.
  
  
  Elfmoor takes a big whiff of the magical aroma. “B. E. A. Utiful. Times like this make life worth living.”
  
  
  Elfrond shakes his head. “Elfmoor, we’re immortal. I’ve seen this like ten times already. And every time this happens, it means something evil is about to come afoot."
  
  
  “But the hero always wins.”
  
  
  “Have you ever heard the term collateral damage?”
  
  
  “Is that a sword?”
  
  
  And there you have it. The magical unicorn fart that marks your birth. How exciting! I wonder what type of hero you will grow up to be.
  > You is there any way you can be a girl?
  Certainly, you can be a girl. However, I am afraid it only comes in one flavor: spunky!
  
  
  Born to ho-hum parents in a ho-hum village in a ho-hum kingdom, life growing up bores the daylights out of you. You are faster and stronger than all the boys are, and sexier and wilder than all the girls, despite their best efforts. You thirst for adventure and always prance around with an almost – but not quite – slutty smile on your face.
  
  
  One evening you find yourself down at the lake with your friends: Cherry, Melisa, Tommy, and Brad. Of course, you have more friends because you are just so damn spunky, but these are your best friends.
  
  
  You notice Tommy staring at you for the sixth time today. “Is everything alright, Tommy?” you ask. “You seem to be off in the clouds.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m ok. Can I tell you something?”
  
  
  “You can tell me anything, Tommy.”
  
  
  “No offense, but you have awesome breasts.”
  
  
  You smack Tommy upside the head. “Tommy. Stop. Now. That is not cool. Just because I’m spunky does not mean you get to ogle my body. If that is all you can think about, stare at Melisa. She’s the whore of our group.”
  
  
  Melisa nods. “Guilty as charged.”
  
  
  You storm off with Brad and Cherry following at your heels like a pair of nipping puppies while Tommy and Melissa disappear into the bushes. After all, this is a tale of a heroine’s escapades, not her sexcapades.
  
  
  “The nerve of that guy,” you say, shaking your head. “I am a prime virgin flower, and I will not be treated like some common whore. I think it’s time we went off on a grand adventure and left that jerk behind.”
  
  
  Brad’s face glows with delight. “I second that!”
  
  
  “What about Melissa?” asks Cherry.
  
  
  “As long as there is a man around with a penis and a pulse, Melissa will be fine,” you say. “I say we go adventuring!”
  
  
  So you decide to leave your quaint little life in village ho-hum for the experience of a lifetime. Any thoughts as to where you are adventuring?