Ahh, Donkey Kong.
I stood up from where I was lying in front of the Citadel. Oddly enough, when I awoke there wasn’t a leash tying me to the wall. This time I was tethered to a tree.
No problem. I strutted over and ripped the tree from the ground with one hand, then hefted it thoughtfully before holding on to it.
The villagers were beginning to come out of their log huts and stare at me as I headed down the hill towards them, so I made water on a garden to show that I meant no harm. I tried to encourage them in forming a line dance, but they stood around uncomprehendingly. I tossed the tree with my leash on it into the wood chipper in the workshop, and the leash disappeared.
“This place needs more luvin’!” I thought to myself. I picked up a few men who was close to my paw, made a complicated gesture with the other, and when I put him down they all rushed over the nearest females and planted a big wet one on her.
The Hand became aware of my actions. Spake the Hand: “1. What the…? 2. Dammit, that was my fisherman! 3. No wonder I’m running out of housing space. 4. Bad tiger!”
The hand swooped down from the sky and knocked me to the ground. The beating continued until the Hand felt I was groveling sufficiently, then grabbed my leash and dragged me off to another part of the island. It then set fire to a number of bushes, then handed me a fireball.
Huh. A big ball of fire. Thanks, Hand. I bet the villagers could use it - they seem to eat nothing but raw grain, and some bread would go over very nicely. So I lobbed it over the mountain towards the village; I’m sure the screams echoing through the valley were of joy.
