The Great Grabbing Grandure

The wind was bitter and unforgiving. The night, black hearted. We sought shelter. The dwellings were numerous, and posed no threat. Why we chose the great palace I could not tell you, and will never dare question our reasoning again, not after the battle that ensued. This was a fateful night and tragedy was inevitable. Good thing we go against the grain.

This is our story.

We were fleeing the Mall of the Palmed Desert where an obviously tormented and annoyed guard had just escorted us out. Being forcefully removed from a marketplace is never fun, but what we were doing to cause the disturbance was. Our destination was far North, over the peeks that sloped like jagged blades; where the sharp wind would simply emphasize the daggers that were the mountains. However, shortly after we set off, the path was not so certain. There were other plans afoot, Fate had rolled the dice. Snake eyes. As we neared the fork in the cluttered road, the weather detoured us towards the burg. We saw the lights long before the buildings and knew where we had to go. The village was small and innocent; but the lumbering palace before us…a God. A false idol not to be worshiped, but a God none-the-less. We drew near the Mart of Walton. The Supercenter was beaconing us like the Sirens of lore! The doors opened without assistance, as if some terrible magic had touched this building. We entered.

There, not even five paces into the massive lobby that welcomed us, stood the beast. It was aligned with the wall to our right; It looked as if It were trying to hide. It was huddled together with many beasts, some small, some larger. But this particular mechanical monster stood out. It shined with Its great, omnipotent shininess. Taller than any man in our party, It looked down upon us. And that claw. It proudly presented a three pronged claw, undoubtedly used for whatever unimaginable atrocities It may have committed in Its sinful past. The gleam Its talons produced was almost blinding, but strangely transcendent. This was where Fate had placed us. We approached the demon with great confidence on our exterior, and extreme fear in our hearts. That is when we saw the magnificent treasures the beast protected. We now knew what the claw's purpose and sole intent was; to champion these other-worldly tchotchkes. However, we happened to come prepared and willing.

It just so happened a member of our party, the great Devonivich, keeper of the mighty yak hair, bestowed the secrets of this three fingered being. He spoke of tales regarding the great Clawed Beast who, upon receiving humanly trinkets, would provide an opportunity to claim the riches It possessed. Without hesitation, we were intrigued. Collectively, we gathered a fist-full of small metal disks and irregular-shaped paper slices. We presented, arms stretched out as far as we could manage, in the palms of our hands, these simple products; so common in our everyday lives. Of course these items held value in our society, but nowhere near the awesome power the treasures we sought possessed. The terrible monster excepted, with a grin on Its glassy face, and let us approach. A limb extended from Its torso, and the demon's voice echoed in all our minds, "Give it a try…it controls all." Surely enough, a twitch of the appendage manipulated the beast's claw. And so we took our first, humble step in what was sure to be a fierce battle.

Much of what took place during the epic struggle is now a blur. Weapons were useless. Only total manipulation of the demon's own hand would determine our victory. The riches were plentiful, but we had our eye on only the most brilliant of the objects. And so the exchange took place. We fed trinkets into the monster's mouth, and Its spiked palm feverishly pawed at the riches before us. Some were easy to grab. A pinch here and a clench there; then we would hold our breathes as the item was dragged across what seemed to be miles of hopes and wishes. Some of the valuables seemed as if they went willingly, almost like they were trying to escape. We were their saviors; their light at the end of a tunnel. Others clenched on to the group around them. This was their home and we were the abductors. But in the end, we were victorious, in our own minds. We did not rob the great beast of everything. However we did walk away with a caravan of tiny paradises in matter form. The peculiar thing is, the monster did not seem upset by our victory. That same glossy grin was left on Its face as we slinked away into the night. Were these truly the riches we sought; or curses?