A Prayer to Sheogorath

>I see a pile of dirt. I see a crab! FORNICATION! Oh Lordy Lord of Lordiness, why must you lord me so lordly?! Did I forget to clean the Tirdas? Is my pillow soft enough? I am a Dwemer as big as a Giant! Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!!

>Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Blue who came riding from a puddle of vampire mush filled with teeth and bees and carriages and clouds and bricks and venison. He tastes like Summer.

>Hhahreeigh. The sun smells like lavander, and a Redguard lady's kiss, and THE BLOOD OF NEFARIOUS SLAVES DRIPPING FROM THE TIP OF A LASH. Will I ever be free? Why do people stop talking to me once I'm about to make a point?... You! Yes, you! I need your help! Yes, your help and no one else's! This of the most dire importance. What? Why, you maggot. So rude! To assume I have a problem just because I cry for help. Is that how you treat your subjects?! Do you act this condescendingly if a mushroom stubs its toe and goes to war with Akavir over it? Don't change the subject. You are a rotten individual. Why are you still pestering me?! I have businesses of the highest importance to atend to and you are wasting my time. Thank you.

>Are you tired yet? I'll have you know there are no sweeteners in the clouds. Believe me! There are over 768 flavors in the sky, all of them bad! Just like me! My father! My father! What is the point anymore? People die and nothing happens. 43.

>Put a handful of pollen in my mouth. Thank you. I can sleep now.

-Ho ho ho, that was lovely, Haskill! Blimey, who was he talking to?

-No one, my lord. The man was alone. He has not been seen by another mortal in over five years.

-Oh, what's five years? I'm sure he'll be fine. Now read me that one about dying on foreign soil and strangers wearing familiar faces. That one always makes me giggle!