tuesday's turn. I apologize, this might be abit... it came out kinda... uhm, pear-shaped.

Tuesday isn't a greedy man.

He isn't, he swears.

He's just... a bit, y'know, jealous of the stuff people had, and well, you cannot fault a Denizen of his calibre when he tries to steal take their stuff and make copies of them. In fact, they should be glad that the Grim Tuesday had actually deigned to focus his attentions on their paltry designs.

Plagiarising is a form of inventiveness and smartness, more fool the idiots who bleat and whine about "right of inventor" and yadda yadda yadda.

Annoying little lambs.

But what irked Tuesday most was that he could not, no matter how hard he tried - and mark it, when Tuesday says he tried, he really does give it his all - he simply could not come up with something that was entirely his own. And that, pissed him off to no end. He could not understand it. It should be easy... Twisting that cherry tree just so, just a bit to reality's angle and maybe adding some blossoms of an entirely new colour or shape...

It, should be easy.

But it was not.

When he tried to create a new animal, a fusion of a platypus and a bear, the energies used snapped right back at him. He was flung from one end of his workshop to the other where he collapsed and spewed up bright blue blood. His long-suffering Noon very nearly got impaled with a sword when he came rushing in to see what was wrong with his Master.

So Tuesday sat in his chair and thought, for a little while.

The next day, he went out, with his Second Key and trusty Noon, and began his great project.

A world, some tiny little world called Rhiann which consisted of a couple of islands was wiped out within two weeks. It was left barren and empty, with her people running around in it, crying and weeping. A man came, tall and slim with dark good looks, and herded them into a line with a long, thin whip. He took them to a door, and opened it, reassuring them all the way that they would be in a new, better world. They followed him into the black, angry door, like little lambs who didn't know any better.

A mountain in a world with too many syllables in its name disappeared. The tribes which worshipped the mountain as a god of harvest went crazy with grief when they woke up one morning and found out that their mountain disappeared. War was waged between the tribes, despite the fact that no-one, in either tribe could have shifted or destroyed the mountain in the space of one night.

A gigantic pit in Orlud was taken away by Grim Tuesday. He had plans for it.

There were countless other incidents, countless other worlds that were wiped clean.

Grim Tuesday was glad, as he sat in his workshop and looked out over the giant pit. He looked down at the newly-arrived humans, which his Dawn and Dusk had so kindly collected for him. He looked at the gold piles and metal bars, glimmering faintly in the red light from the lanterns. He looked at the ugly demon mask he took from some Secondary Realm. Grim Tuesday twiddled his thumbs.

And he called for his Times.

end.