Once upon a time, not so long ago and not so far from here, a Count lived in a hill. You've read it correctly: no castle, nor mansion for this fellow and your regular cave was way too mondaine. He built his city, his village and his estate, his roads, rivers and bridges and covered them with dirt. High pillars and vaulted ceilings protected the most magnificent sceneries from the envie of his rivals. The Count envisioned the place to be one of peace and prosperity, but soon his dream became a nightmare. Cut off from the Sun's light no lettuce would grow on the acres of field. The chickens refused to lay eggs, the cows stopped producing milk and the pigs did nothing but sleep. The people living in the hill who were blessed with eternal life barely moved an inch themselfs. Weeks went by and their skin slowly turned as white and felt as cold as the first snowfall. Months passed by and their eyes became as black and lifeless as coal. Years passed by and they ...
"Tell me a bed time story! Tell me me me me me!" the little boy jumped up and down on his bed. "Now, what did I tell you about jumping on your bed?" his uncle asked. "That I'm not allowed to do it, because if you'd get all excited too and decided to join me, you'd hit your head against the ceiling and I'd have to call 911 again..." the boy sighted. He fell in a huge pile of pillows. "My head thanks you," his uncle smiled. "You're welcome," the boy grinned, "Now tell me a bed time story already!" "Don't be so hasty. Everything comes exactly at the right moment for those who wait. Did you brush your teeth?" "Yes!" "I don't believe you." The man sniffed the boy's breath. "Yikes, what does my sister feed you?" "Pasta with lots and lots of garlic!" the boy laughed. Then his face suddenly turned grave. "It's against those ...