Hail friends,
The written story can be a funny thing if handled with the proper touch. Like all types of stories, they can be tales wonderous glory or tales hide endless shame. (Some tales hide more shame than others.) But the problem with the written story is that it never contains an eye witness account -- there's never any corroborating evidence that any such events ever took place. For all the reader knows, the writtings could be the ramblings of a treasureless crazy man (with hurt feelings)! The words could be nothing more than a desperate attempt at attention! A shameless ploy to gain shameless fame! An attempt to bad mouth others with falsified evidence! A platform in which to emphasize shortcomings that don't exist! Propganda for the fiction loving masses!
(Screenshots or it didn't happen!)
*notices the flag on the mailbox is up*
*skips outside and checks for mail*
(What's this?)
*cracks open book*
*squints eyes*
On the other hand, the story may very well be completely true. It may be a tale of a blusted steal (due to an untimely hallywhack to the face) and it may have occurred just as the story suggests. It may leave out the good parts, such as the stalking, the stealing, and the impectable timing for the attempted snag, just as the villain was switching out their Siege blessing. (It also might leave out the hero's dashingly good looks.) But instead of a fiction-based-tale told by a man frothing at the mouth, it may be an account of the latest failing in a long line of life-long failings of a habitual failure -- but true none-the-less. And yet... I get this nagging feeling that something is missing from this latest literary work.
I wonder what it could be...?
*ponders*(Oh yeah, I remember.)
*chuckles*
'Til next time!