Punctual as usual, no surprise cancellations or unexpected guests, the Palisade Paladins ventured out to conquer the castle that lay just south of State Line Lookout. All were champions, all quite fearless, though one who shall not be named, with great trepidation in his heart, ran to the rear, from whence he came, claiming a compatriot was left behind, defenseless and in need of assistance. And though the troupe burned with indignation at this wanton abandonment, they went forth and indeed conquered the castle built by the monumental evil Federation, their victory foretold by 'Mirror, Mirror.' The faint hearted duo miraculously emerged when the victory was quite complete. How convenient.

But this day was not to end here upon the summit. There was a steep descent to the river where they slaked their thirst. One man even dipped his feet. Misled, they were, into believing their mission would be easy. For there was a giant in these wood, a giant by the name, Predator. To varying degrees, each of our heroes attacked the giant's lair via his famous stairs. All that remained of his lair, once vanquished, were boulders of unusual size (B.O.U.S.). But the losses were grave. Two heroines vanished in a cloud of white powder, sniff, and were taken by the dark forces of the forest and kept from the rest of us. Our wizard used telepathy and sound throwing devices to locate and orient them but to no avail. Not a few tears were shed at their disappearance.

The heat of the day brought our weary band to the playground of the gods, where riverside swings were a delight and the 'Peanut Leap Cascade' let a gentle refreshing flow of water on those daring enough to climb its heights and partake in its invigorating powers.

Pushing onward to what may very well have been their doom, not one but two omens from the gods presented themselves in white blazes etched upon the trees. Its message simple. 'Wrong way,' it warned. And so a sacrifice of a bucket of sweat per head, appeased the gods and revealed the true path.

Almost as an afterthought, our two heroines miraculously reappeared after many hours in the land of the lost spirits. The swings, I tell you, they were the portal that allowed them escape. I saw them on the swings with my own eyes. Cries of 'Hazar' heralded their return to us and so with joy and merriment our band began its final ascent to the high place of heavenly chariots. Our bard improvised a song for every word mentioned.

But a sinister force was already advancing on our unsuspecting group. Sheer terror engulfed poor little ms., little ms. J-O-C. A copperhead snake of unusual proportions strikes out at her. Her shriek, impressively piercing, summons her secret champion to her rescue. From a fallen log, high above, her fearless fellow pounced upon the snakes head, crushing it instantly. But lo, there was a price to pay, as no good deed goes unpunished. Accidentally, or so our dear lady's other suitor would wish us to believe, his knee was pierced by those vicious fangs as he landed. Horrifying pain and varying degrees of loss of consciousness followed as his soldiers-in-arms bandaged him and literally carried him out of the forest of fear. No offers to suck the venom. Hmmm...

He did indeed survive due to the quick thinking minchah prayer, that doubled as one man's last kaddish, as well as the dvar torah that refocused the Divine energy in circling lights and sirens that laid waste to the venom and stopped its penetrating power. Rejuvinated, he was allowed passage back to place he was before.

And so our merry band bid each other farewell and safe journey to the far off land down under from whence they came. Their leader a fleeting thought but their memories indelibly imprinted upon them.