Sheepy Hollow wrote: *Long seeming abandoned, the bulletin board has not overgrown this time, instead it stands there, its pages fluttering in the gentle breezes that sweep the grasslands of Caer Sidi. From somewhere over the horizon a gentle baaing can be heard, and then another, and another. Rising into a swelling chorus of baaing almost seeming intent on shaking the sky down. As the herd comes over the horizon and floods the plains, returning to their grazing grounds as they begin to monch the delicious grasses. A small lamb breaks away from its mother and approaches the bulletin board, staring up at it for a moment before bleating, as though asking what the board is waiting for.
The bulletin board shakes, trembles, and sheds the papers stuck to it like leaves falling in autumn. The drift to the ground and are promptly devoured by passing sheeps.
A new paper appears in their place, which reads:*
"unOFFFICAL QUESTION OF THE WHENEVER : The Queen is throwing a funeral for herself. She is not dead, and is in fact in absolutely perfect health. The same way she has been since she fist took the throne 300 years ago. She believes that by seeing who attends her funeral and how distraught they are, will reveal who her truly loyal friends, retainers, and servants are.
How will you show your grief at the Queen's Funeral? What will you arrive wearing and how will you behave so that the queen knows that you are her most loyal... friend?
*Beneath the page, another piece of paper appears: *
HAVE YOU ENDORSED YOUR WORLD ASSEMBLY DELEGATE YET? IF NOT WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR
As befits my position I will be arriving dishevelled, unwashed with red eyes and clearly sleep deprived, and at appropriate intervals throughout the event I shall scream incoherently and tear articles of my clothing until I am removed