I am the eggman. I live alone in a cottage suspended above a quaint little village located in rural Europe. It rests on a perfectly circular conglomeration of branches forming an also circular hole, with a plaza situated below. The cottage consists of tightly packed together straw and mud, with a wooden shell on the inside to give it support, and the hole is in the middle, providing me with means to spy on these pathetic creatures called "humans."

Oh, how I dislike these so called "sentient beings". They are merely a caricature of the image they've been attempting to convey to us storybook creatures. They do not think for themselves, they do not have free will, they do not even have the mental capacity to decipher if whether or not their actions are logical. They are all controlled by the media, the hivemind of these scoundrels.

Ever since the dawn of computers and technology, my endless life has been fraught with a mere fraction of the magic I've experienced throughout the years. Humans used to be kindhearted and never made an act of violence towards me or any of my friends, we used to get along even, singing songs and telling stories by the campfire of life. But as time went on in its lumbering stride, change happened, and it happened hard. The people grew more and more violent over the years, their friendly gestures replaced with pitchforks. So, as a result I was forced to move my cottage. Ten years ago I was a mere 6 inches above the ground, and now I am one hundred feet up in the air.

It's been a very long time since I've lived properly. My shiny shell was once the center of everyone's attention, with an ever present grin of immense joy on my face and the finest clothing in town on my body. I used to walk the town with my wooden cane at my hand and the town's children at my knee, following me and trying to keep up, listening to my tales. I was all they had, and they were all I had. That feeling you get when you see a child smile and that you made that all by yourself is irreplaceable.

AND THAT'S ALL FOR NOW, FOLKS

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Yeah, my MWC9 entry for the month. A work in progress. This is like, the prologue.