User:Quasimoto80

Perhaps you have heard of Quasimodo, perhaps you have not. It is really of no concern to me. The real question remains: "Who is Quasimoto"? The astute reader will have noticed the replacement of a 't' for a 'd'. Having read the previous sentence, all but the most incompetent will have now noticed the same thing. If truth be told, and it hardly ever is, the story begins in the land of natsi-kapero-hal (nkh, for short), where a 63 inch-to-be child enters the world in the usual way - not with a bang, but with a whimper. Very few would describe her as "somewhat fat". Then again, very few would describe her as "glorious breakfast". Whatever. With the notable exception of what she didn't know, the baby child knew everything.

With the passage of time, her "bones" grew big, and she was "healthy". At this point, some familiarity with the language of nkh would be useful. Let's just say that, in medieval times, she would not be mistaken for a poor person. Women can be so cruel, idn't it. So can young children. She was both.

Having left the land of her birth at an early age, she wandered like a gypsy, from yesrej to elad-sracs. At this point, the Grand Council of Elders (aka "the bazurgs") convened and decided to grace her with the title of 'foffie'. For those of you that are familiar with what that means, good for you! For the others, too bad!!

So what is the moral of this story, you say? Don't name yourself Junior, and play while you may.