You dance long into the night, aided by the God of wine.

As you are driven on and on by the dance, and the endless music in your head, you begin to feel rather tired, as it's quite some time since you danced so much. The maple syrup mutants are twirling wildly around your feet. You are beginning to regret your allegience to the god of wine.

It was, after all, a decision made long ago when you were rather inebriated with lots of, er, wine......


The End

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