Charles

............................................................ .................................... Existence can be drawn out into a sort of dull, monotonous grinding of the senses. An endless set of variations on a two-note theme. Punctuated by the occasional unreachable itch or sudden sneezing fit or even the insistence of a dull headache. ............................................................ .................................... But there is always a tall man. ............................................................ .................................... With slow and steady step, he has walked with certain purpose through the great library of history, book after book, page after page. His footprints have left a trail of blood and a swath of decay that fester to this day. ............................................................ .................................... He is the tall man, the curator of our collective fears and the sole idol of our endless damnation. ............................................................ .................................... I have begun to dedicate my life to hunting down the tall man, and then killing him in a duel. ............................................................ .................................... This has not proved as easy as I had originally thought. Lately I have been drinking a lot, and sparring with any available Asshole in order to keep my skills sharp. ............................................................ ....................................