Hey. We’re back. Again. *Jazz Hands*
So, it’s been a while…
How’ve you been?
How about that Duck Dynasty?
The Harlem Shake?
All of that stuff that happened during the eons since our last post?
Yeah. We won’t be doing any of that stuff here. Don’t worry. Same, weird, old, fabulous us.
It has come to our attention that we have posted nearly everything about Losercorn culture, society, and humor, as a whole, but never once have we dared brush the dust off the cover of the massive expanse of illustrious text that is our history.
So. Let’s start.
Many moons ago, in a forest at the bottom of the ocean, there resided a sea cucumber by the name of Barb. She lived all alone, with only her ratty overalls, hot chocolate, and musk-ls to keep her company.
One day, she came across a tribe of wandering young seahorses grazing on her lawn. “Get off my lawn, you crazy fillies!” She said. She was determined to teach them the proper ways of society and end their hooligan nature, so she announced herself as their music teacher.
“Perfect Practice Makes Perfect Performance,” she would say, as she made them rue the day that they were born.
They did practice, but not perfectly, because that’s unrealistic.
The poor sea cucumber did not realize this, however, and she drilled onward with her iron fronds. Finally, the young seahorses had had enough. Barb realized that her hold over them was slipping, and she began to take desperate measures to maintain her control.
During one of the torturous dances that she forced them to perform, they recognized the pure ridiculousness of her choreography. They began to giggle. They reared their manes in joy and watched as bubbles of air fled their mouths and escaped to the surface of the sea.
Barb couldn’t understand why they were laughing — no one could. And it didn’t matter, because they were happy.
A soft, white light enveloped the young seahorses. It vanished, leaving them transformed. Their manes flowed with every color of the rainbow, and their scales shined in a beautiful shade of shockeldiff. On each of their foreheads, there rested a glittering horn in the shape of an “L”.
Author’s Note: Some historians have compared this unique marking to the “Loser” symbol made with the hand of a Suckish Losercorn.
The young seahorses took this knowledge with a grain of sea salt, and they began calling themselves the “Losercorns”.
The Losercorns officially leveled up, and gained the skill: [[Humor]]. It cost them [[Three Character Points]], but it was worth it. They used this skill, the only one that they had, to defeat the mundane creatures of Earth, Water, Wind, and Fire.
Through their endeavors, they began to see that the world was a much brighter place than they had initially realized. They learned that even though there will always be Suckish Losercorns and Sea Cucumbers Named Barb and lots of other terrible things out there, they don’t have to control you.
As you may have noticed, this text seems to be written in a vibrant, yet shadowy red. This is no coincidence — yes, the entire book was written in the blood of our ancestors. Don’t worry, we obtained it only after they were dead.
With that, we leave you with this stupid quote, straight from our editing tomb:
“That’s too orange!”
“Your mom’s too orange!”
“Jersey Shore is too orange!”