[ WP ] Make up a fairy tale

In cleverer ways have tales been spun 
 
 Of beasts, monsters, villains, and heroes! 
 
 But never there ever been quite a one, 
 
 That stuck to the wicked and their woes. 
 
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 Not so long ago in a land vaguely similar to our own from that same not-so-long-ago, there was a blackened spire that clawed at the sky and stabbed deep into the earth. No grass grew around this tower, save the bloodweed and razorvines well tended by twisted gardeners that lurched and shuffled in and out of the dark portcullis on the lowest entrance of the tower. 
 
 From within the tower belched smoke of all colors and textures: slimy pink, nauseous blue, debilitating green, farcically yellow, and even the obnoxious apple-red your mother-in-law chose for her kitchen accent wall. These colorful belches of smoke were accompanied by a most heinous aroma; like cookies baked with every ounce of love replaced by pure, malevolent hatred. And every teaspoon of vanilla substituted with almond extract, as if the hatred could n't be overstated enough. Each gaudy cloud clung to the jagged edges of the spire and spread forth from its blackened carapace to drift along as a cinnamon, almond, mixed berry scented miasma across the ruined lands. Villages for miles were assailed by the unforgiving aroma of unadulterated loathing, many succumbing to growling bellies of anguished yearning for the love of grandmother's orange rolls. 
 
 Alas! The land had been smote of the orange rolls long ago by the most vicious of the world's fiends: Smeckledorf the Wicked, Terrible, Not-At-All-Good Goose of the Burnt Tower. 
 
 The Lord Smeckledorf, as he preferred to be referred, claimed absolutely no responsibility for the loss of anyone's grandmother. Or so he angry hissing, clucking, honking, trumpeting tirades were translated by his dastardly compatriot, the self-acclaimed Malevolent Minister Dentus. 
 
 Deep, deep within the obsidian tower was the most evil, maniacal, outright atrocious construction in the whole land known then as Trandia. This construction was of twisted metal, warped stone, cursed gold, tainted silver, stolen souls, and twelve low, low payments of two semi-precious live sacrifices a month. It bellowed and roared and howled with unholy anguish as souls and fire melded within to spew forth the essence sought by the diabolical Lord Smeckledorf: the most perfect, mouth-melting Bloodberry Muffins. 
 
 Years before the aromatic miasma had risen forth from the depths of that tower, Trandia had hosted two towers: the pristine Tower de Blanke in the North, and the Dark Tower in the South. Do n't mistake this to mean that the Dark Tower was not occupied by Lord Smeckledorf, for that would be a grievous assumption on your part. 
 
 No, no, the Lord Smeckledorf did reside in the Dark Tower while Magi Oculus Flabbergelli and his apprentice, Jeseaux del'Vira, maintained semi-permanent residence in the Tower de Blanke. And that semi-permanent residency is exactly the reason the Lord Smeckledorf cites when asked what caused The Horrid Baking Incident of 1232. 
 
 [ *Sources provided by Lord Smeckledorf cite this incident to be known as The Cheating White Wizard Incident and/or The Unbelievable And Thoroughly Eradicated Moonberry Cobbler Incident; Sources provided by the Imperial Library log the entire incident as The Razing of Trandia's White Tower, and have little to say on the matter besides'Work of Lord Smeckledorf.'* ]
