Hearken! One and all to a tale dire for this is the reckoning of the Battle of Sir Thomas the Perspirant against Satan’s Putting Green.

Long grew the grass and multifarious were the weeds and wildflowers which overtook the dooryard and sideyard of Manor Moundshroud, the manse of Sir Thomas and the fair lady Gloria. The depth of the offensive vegetation was great and like to a mob unruly. Threatening to choke off ground and letting nothing good prosper, this challenge could not be ignored lest defeat of the non-flora be a surety.

Sir Thomas was short of stature with a prodigious girth and a pate of weathered skin. His hirsute chin was the envy of some. Desiring only peace, he sussed that, verily, this was a conflict which must needs be striven.

Knowing that he could not prevail alone, Sir Thomas sought his loyal companion Troybilt, the noble Tondeuse a Gazon, where he slumbered on from much deserved rest from toils of the past year. With great effort and persuasion huge, Sir Thomas gained the attention of Troybilt and roused him from slumber deep.

Upwards and down, forth and back did the battle rage, advantage being switched from side to side with no true victor apparent until finally, with effort most brobdingnagian did Thomas and Troybilt finalize the demise of the evil flora.

Releasing Troybilt to his reoccurring and needed slumber, Thomas returned to the manse, contemplating and preparing for the next battle for this task is truly sisyphean and quixotic.