The story of Cotton FINAL!!!

There once was a kingdom full of people who were stuffed with cotton. Cotton farming was quite popular, as their cotton pigs made cotton bacon, cotton chickens gave cotton chicken wings, and cotton cows gave fat-free milk. Enter King Fluffle, a sorrowful King who has lost his sanity after his wife was lost in a scissor accident. He begun his day by stuffing his stomach with deluxe cotton from the shores of his eastern kingdom, which made him brimmer full of power, more than any commoner cotton would.
    King Fluffle then approached a war table. Although he went on his daily life pretending everything was okay, the cotton rebellion was nearly to his front gate. In a dire situation, he figured that the attack would come as soon as today. I must protect my kingdom. For Queen Fluffle. Thought King Fluffle, as he gripped his cotton cane. Preparations were made as the rebels reached the front gates, shooting balls of rotten cotton at the castle, taking down the walls. They crossed the cotton moat as they quickly overcame the cotton guards. A hero leading the rebellion used their scissors to mercilessly cut down any opponent in their path. King Fluffle realized how useless he was as a King, and fled through the underground sewers.
    Outside, three of the royal court waited on their fluffle horses. They escaped once nightfall came, disappearing into the lands. King Fluffles’ mind was warped with anger, rage and distaste for the rebels. But, change must come, and he had to accept his loss. For he was no more a cotton king, but was a cotton man.
    “My sire” said cotin, one of the three royal courtsman, “I believe we must face the unhappiness of never being able to return to the kingdom.”
    King Cotton was sad thinking about this. Like, super sad. He frowned a lot. “Well, I guess that’s how the cookie crumbles”
    “You mean that’s how the cotton crumbles?” interjected cottunia at the wrong moment. King cotton and the other two courtsman decided to tie him to a tree and leave him. A punishment for only traitors and really bad puns, both of equal sin.
    “Don’t leave meeeee” cottunia said in a mighty voice, as on the ‘me’ it changed to a slow fade as he accepted his fate. Puns are bad. Anyways, back to the story. King Cotton’s depression flung around his mind, as he slowly accepted his fate more and more. His royal courtsmen got more and more annoying as they never stepped 2 feet out of the castle before and acted like scared little cotton animals.
    King Fluffle soon got sick of them slipped away from these royal court one night, as he soon left this fallen kingdom and went north. Colder and colder it got, as cotton people focused more on cotton quantity then cotton quality, as more was needed to get through the winter. Don’t ask me how that works, I’m just a normal person who does not understand the cotton culture.
    But, King Fluffle was a cotton person. Who delved into philosophical thoughts as he isolated himself from the world.
    Cotton. What a silly thing. For he could live forever given the right cotton, but whether he lived forever, whether he was a king or a peasant, he realized that in the end he was no more fragile to death then the common cotton. How a slip into the water could end his bountiful life, how a mistake with scissors like his wife, or getting stuck in an avalanche and slowly starve to death with the lack of cotton.
    But the years went by and Cotton King passed on, leaving his legacy, as his cotton parts moved no more.
    As a journey ends, one must begin anew. The cotton king was a very uncreative person, so his first son's name was Cottonia. Cottonia snuck out to a small countryside house, where he lived his days now a common boy. As he learned the way of the peasant, he also learned his legacy as left as his father.
    Maybe we as the human race have a legacy too, and should find inspiration in these cotton people, of their struggles and philosophies that we should bathe in appreciation to, in turn, find out about our own human purposes and aspirations.
    Or maybe not. I’m no philosopher, but neither is Cottonia. But when Cottonia was asked at the age of 19 to help reclaim his kingdom, as the archaic failure of his cotton people was but moments away, he had to step up to the challenge and lead an army, as they overtook the once revolutionaries.
    The revolutionaries became these anarchic monsters, ruled by greed, corruption and a need for power. Cottonia was displeased to see these cottons turn into such vile things. But Cottonia meet them on the battlefield, hand in hand as he struck down the evil opponents mercilessly, yet showing mercy to any who surrendered or was forced to fight.
    And the castle was soon taken over again, which would have marked the day that these cotton people once again returned to their unfortunate demise.
    But Cottonia was not pleased with this.
    For he no longer wanted to be king.
    He implanted a new system of government, as if the cotton people rebelled they wanted freedom, but he felt it was his duty as the would-be king to guide the people, these rebellious uncertain people, into the ways of true freedom and intellectual enlightenments. It is not what his father or mother would have done and likely not what his children would have done, but because he was a greater cotton person it was in fact his duty to guide his cotton people through the dark of what it would be to be a country without a king or a single power in charge.
    Years past and Cottonia only became an afterthought, just as much as his father. Is it all human perception of leaving a mark, making a name for ourselves? For the emotions may transfer over to our kids, but may not go on forever. So it should not be our goal to leave a mark on the history, but think of Cottonia and rather leave an impression instead of our name, for that will last generations longer then but a name. For people will remember the achievements you have reached rather than your name after your time has gone and past, so it is best now to accomplish what you can while you still can.
    But maybe this was just a big ramble. Maybe you will get nothing out of it, I certainly didn’t. But if people can find power within anything, then maybe someone somewhere will feel something after this, and will truly motivate them to do better. I’m not one to tell them what to do, but good for them.
    But if there is one thing that is certain is that the determination of these cotton people is absolutely undying, and will never be taken down. And with that we could use it for motivation too, if we are open minded enough. I hope so at least, because then we’d all be able to relate just a little bit more with these curious people.