Tim pulled aside the rock at the entrance to his cave, dragging his reminder staff along with. The hunchback stepped outside of his small cave, and stared up at the sun until his eyes bled. Bled? He frowned, but then giggled.

He wasn’t short. At least, not in the same ways. But there was something new. The gentle hunchback had come short when attempting to remind the sun of people’s eyes.

Tim gave a small dance, shaking the staff and hollering gibberish. The skulls of the not-so-nice townsfolk rattled together, creating a strange melody pleasing to the hunchback’s ear.

He looked up at the pooling clouds around him. Giggling gleefully, he embraced the gathering darkness as the sun was blotted out.

He returned to his cave. Two months later, he heard a congregation of people outside his cave, as well as light. A group of angry people gathered, holding aloft torches and pitchforks. He giggled as he realized that their plants couldn’t grow.

And then, he kindly reminded them that there are faster ways to die than starvation.