Under the comet, and a thousand chimerical stars, white canvas pops up on fields of green. Silken banners fly, and cannons roll to wait on the hilltop. Metallic dragons honk and belch smoke, and the Lord of Blue Water are hailed with each Kingdom's cry - hoobah, vivat, huzzah! At the lakeshore, noble lords and ladies dance in an italian villa made of air and spun sugar, while Lost Boys stretch their hammocks between trees and pirate ships hoist their masts with painted sails. Merchants hawk their wares, and chubby-cheeked urchins walk between sheet walls with their cry - "DOLLAR-THIRTY-FIVE." The Mongolian Horde hangs the head of the great dragon on a yurt, and Vikings laugh in their mead hall, and the Roman Legion sings songs of glory, and drunkenness, and the year it rained.