It would only take a handful of us satisfy the King’s fancy. A mission this treacherous would only be successful if the best and strongest of us were to lead the charge.

As dusk we gathered, coming together as a group near Oovren. Our captain, a brave, yellow jacketed fellow, instructed us about our quest. It was there we found out that this mission could prove fatal. Not all of us were meant to return. Perhaps none of us. 

We took our places, and it felt as though we were swept away, through the air. The captain informed us that we had one stop before we reached our final destination. The half way point was warm; uncomfortably so. We moved apart, trying to give each other some space.

All at once, there was a change over the crew. We began to grow, expand. We became lighter, stronger and larger. It was a transformation hovel, this halfway point. A preparation for our final battle.

Suddenly, a bell chimed. We were once again swept away, taken to a different place. Here, our King’s will was done. We met our challenge, and were conquered.

Such is the life of popcorn.

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