To give a bit of background to this curious, strange, and strategically awesome event, here is the entry for the Denecaepian Grammar Council, found in Just Speakin' da Truth: A Visitor's Guide to National Councils.
"The Denecaepian Grammar Council was founded in 1808 by Sir Uzliss Echukashun. It was created with a noble idea: to regulate and follow the laws for the English language of Denecaep. Gold was poured into this for funding for months, until the government, and everyone on the council, realized that it was not necessary to actually change anything in a language that had been around for hundreds of years. So after solving the legendary (not really) "his or her" dispute, the council now sits in cobwebs for decades, doing nothing, paid little, and watching internet (see entry "Internet Council of Jayheart") videos."
For more information on councils, please see the 4,156,119 page epic, "List of WA Councils: Part A."
To get on to the interesting topic that this message was made for, let's tell what happened next. Or perhaps maybe we could make it more interesting, with dialogue like in a roleplay. Hmm... yes, let's go with that. Otherwise we'll lose the two people that are actually curious to find out what this is about anyway. Well then, here we go, with some COLOR!:
The council sat in a dark, unlighted room, filled with small bugs that would walk over the councilmen's hands, without them caring in the slightest. The chairs made no noise because of the stolid reactions of any councilmen that weren't asleep. One man yawned, an old lady sneezed, and another old lady was wishing for a good sneeze. Then, the tiniest sound occured. The average person cannot comprehend this sound, because the only reason it was heard, was because of how quiet it was. It was the rarely heard sound... of an idea. All of a sudden, the youngest man on the council, a fellow named Phillip Michael, aged 48, gave out a dull and tired yelp. "I've got it! I know something we can do! What if we... well... made a new word!" For the first time in twenty years, the room stirred, but just barely. Most of the stirring probably just came from a mouse in the corner. But for sure, some of the stirring came from one of the chairs. The oldest man in the group began in his tight Southern accent by saying, "Oh, now 'ee can'net do thaat. We hadn't not done nothing for twenty five years, and that's the way i'll stay." The old man then fell asleep and went into a coma spontaneously. Little reaction was given, and everyone pondered the possiblity of saying something. A middle-aged lady stood up and responded, "I don't know if it's legal, I don't know if it's moral, and I don't care, cuz I'm BORED!"
This next paragraph is dedicated to a small Southern man on the Denecaep Grammatical Council, who may or may not be dead.
Within the day, the young man of the grammatical council had made his international annoucement. He walked up to the large, elegant, presidential podium in front of a large audience of people, and possibly even more video cameras. As he came into view, it was easy to see that his shirt was obliterated by coffee stains (coffee, we hope) and his tie was half done. Luckily, nobody noticed what probably the most awkward part was, that his zipper was down. Yet despite all this, he began to speak with the largest confidence. "I come to the international community today to make an important announcement of grammatical proportions! We have come up with a new word! First, let me say that we didn't just make this word because we thought it would cure our boredom (in case you are unintelligent or far too trusting, please understand that this statement was a lie), we EVOLVED this word because we knew that it was needed. It is important for three reasons!
1. I declare that we must develop a word that rhymes with orange!
2. I declare that this word must be so dorky, it is freaking hilarious.
3. It's use and definition shall be to replace ALL DIRTY WORDS!!!
What is this word? I now declare the word... ZORANGE!
So in conclusion, good day, good night, zorange you, zorange your mom, go to zorange, and SUCK MY ZORANGE!"
