17th Century A.D.
Hmm. Okay, I’ve got my writing utensil. I’ve got plenty of parchment. Nobody else is home. Time to get crackin’ on this here letter. Wait, what am I doing again? Oh yeah, Mother said the town blacksmith was looking for an apprentice and was accepting letters from people stating their qualifications. She said I need to have the courier boy send this off by the end of the week? Okay, I’ve got time. Let’s see… What are the qualifications again? I think he said he wanted an able-bodied young man with some knowledge of tools? Man, I’m hungry. There’s no food, though. Yawn. I need to get more sleep. Not now, though. Gotta write this letter. Hey, this piece of parchment is a perfect square. Ha! That’s weird. If I fold it in half this way, I’ll have two equal-sized triangles. That’s kinda cool. Woah. I get four triangles if I fold it over again. Wait I need to be writing this letter. Ok so how do I start? Dear or Esteemed Blacksmith? Mister Blacksmith? Wait is that his last name? Hold on. If I go back to two triangles and then I kind of fold up the edges, it’s like giving this thing some pointy ears. Dude! All I need to do now is fold this top part down and IT’S A FUCKING CAT FACE. Hooooooly shit. Wait, what’s that sound? Fuck, Mother’s home. I’ll finish this letter tomorrow, I guess.
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