In the eighteenth century, a bunch of homeless men got together and took the soil from the earth to build an image of what their past homes were. They were told by the authorities to stop their toil of artistic endeavours. They ignored all peer pressure to stop in their tracks, and pursued their dreams. After seventeen years, their efforts paid off, and they were finally done. Those homeless men took what little they had and formed a beautiful showcase of the beauty our world shows.
Many criticized them for not putting any thought to symmetry, coherent form or colors that blend in. But these men knew what they did was of true artistic soul.
IkeTheGeneric continued on to being a gay prostitute who died of aids.
Tango found life in the adventure of fishing, and lived to the ripe old age of twenty six, afterwords he fell out of his boat and was eaten by a trout.
Specever died after making it. Nobody knew why, but he died.
I guess it's because I shot him so many times.
Giroian joined the force, protected blocklandia from invaders and almost rised through the ranks. He got shot by me, too.
Hank just stood there that whole time.
After all of this effort, the whole party moved on with their ways.
The end
