The Flamingo of Order was without purpose, since everything was now so orderly. Finally, things were in the correct chronological order. Now, which was the perfect order. Much better than color coded, or alpha ,or alphabetical, or even by intensity of emotions a certain thing brings about in your general soul.
The world no longer needed him, so one day, he stood atop a hill with one leg in a rock, and he turned into a bright pink sword. Perhaps, someday there would be a King of the Hill that would pull the sword from the stone to restore Order to the world.
Luckily, he did not leave the world unprotected. His son, Special Order, was left in case the world needed more order. In his father's eyes, justice had always been made to Order, but after Warren, the world needed something extra on the side. The world could no longer use cookie cutter justice, instead it needed customized order built for any situation.
“Will you be loading your soft drink to an XL to celebrate 40 years of peace?” Special Order said through an intercom. After his father had left him, and he realized his mother may have been a literal sword or a literal swan, he had a hard time buying food, because eating required money. Being the second generation of the personification of Order was not going to make him money. Like any other kid, who had seemingly only fictional skills, and whose parents weren’t financially supportive, he took up working at a fast food rest-aura-ant. No rest-aua-ant was faster than WE ALREADY HAVE WHAT YOU WANTED.
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