(RELATING TO FOLKLORE).
WELCOME TRAVELERS OF THE HALLOW WOODS (May 21, 2026)— So, had to head out to the local grocery store. Pretty mundane start to the day to say the least. My mother-in-law and her great niece had just jotted down a shopping list for yours truly and soon I was off and well on my way—Well, I get down to the grocery store and fold out the unassuming piece of paper to find out the whole thing is in cursive. Not your 2nd grade workbook cursive, mind you, but "I'm just here to do my own thing" type cursive.
"Great," I think to myself, "It'll be like a treasure hunt," as I attempt to decipher what I can only surmise to be ancient cuneiform with directions to the antiquated, consecrated, concatenated bric-à-brac of Nocandu diligently and meticulously scratch out by some ancient venerated breed of domestic fowl.
First, I get what I can make out from context clues: "brown sugar," "peanut butter," "corn oil," etc. Before tackling that what is less than discernible. "Grianelen," "Wriuaneden," the name to Thor's hammer, perhaps? Sure, I get an obscure language muttered by some ancient demigod or demon may be tricky and all, but come on y'all, nothin' should be this difficult. So, I inquire to store employees and passersby
