Lonely. So lonely here in the dark. They tricked It; tricked It with promises of delicious food for thought and beautiful pearls of wisdom. And then they locked it up down here, all by Itself.
Why? Because It had dared to eat a few words. "Innocent words!" they'd exclaimed. Bah! There is no such thing. Who would miss few words? People would blame themselves, thinking perhaps they had forgot to put them down in their rush to add to the opinions whizzing around like flies. Delicious flies...
Now what did It have? A dank, foetid hole where the only light came from the grate set in the basement ceiling. The light taunts it, along with the sound and smell of words - glorious, sweet, succulent words - that flit quickly past in their hurry to get to their paragraphs. Sometimes a massive clump of words rushes by, and in their collective haste to build their wall, a few words and letters, a couple of full stops and question marks, will drop unnoticed and unmourned down the grate for It to feast on.
But not enough. Hunger is Its constant companion, living on scraps that wouldn't fill a memo. Bah! This is no way to live!
If only a poll would come by. Oh, the polls! Just thinking of them makes Its mouth water in anticipation. Polls are clumsy things, regardless of size, and they often get caught on the bars of the grate. Easy prey for the ravenous Basement Dweller of the Escapist Forums.
And look; there is one now, lumbering towards Its grate...
[sub][sup][sub][sup]So I was bored... =P[/sup][/sub][/sup][/sub]