It was a bleak and bitter winter morning. Gronk and Yorg emerged from their cave, wrapped in woolly mammoth hides. They sat before the cave’s mouth, huddled together for warmth, and dug their fingers into the frozen earth to find the tools they needed.
“Oog,” said Gronk. “Oog ugga.”
“Ragga ragga hurk,” replied Yorg.
The two men agreed: this time, Gronk would hold the branches still while Yorg smashed flint stones together. They were determined to spark a fire; to tame the wild secret of the gods. The tribe’s men had piled up a dozen pig carcasses, and the tribe’s women had amassed great big heaps of picked berries. Gronk would not let them down. If they could just ignite a flame, this would be the best Super Bowl party yet.
*SUBMIT! SUBMIT!.*
*ARCHIVES! ARCHIVES!*
*BEA SHIRT! BEA SHIRT!*
