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Gathered friends, listen again to our Legend of the 22CHANNEL.
Aye, Indeed. The bard often tells tales which often get forgotten, But as you know others take their tales to heart and recount them orally. Do you remember? The lore of /sewers/?

>It's was once that tye primordial gator roamed the surface, freely hunting 4 lulz and calling each other a fag, until they were cast from their homeland by masked heathens and left to wander a land changing too much for them to survive. After an endless pilgramige the gators met a wise cat who gave onto them a home, the wonderous sprawling sewers, with the condition that they slaughter all otter and carp who occupy the land.

Ideal isn't it? 'Tis no more then a tale to keep the hatchlings at peace, In a world filled with hope and dreams but as you know, Some stories are hidden, waiting in the deepest sewers to be found. But was it meant to be? Should the truth be known? What risk would it be to know how far the sewers reach? What is hiding in the deepest depths?
Do you remember, the 21st night of september? Thus was a day of pain and horror beyond imagining. Sewers, was once a proud community filled with Gators, known for funposting. And the Watermelon tribe, Famed farmers of melons.
Already persequted by invaders, Both civilisations attempted to barricade outsiders from the board. The wise cat betrayed them, For he had tasted the melon, He had become infected with AIDs and closed the pools of 22chan as a whole for good. (such is a story for another time) But you question his motive? Why? It has been fortold, by the ages and in song such as depeche modes "Barrel of a gun" (which is why one must remember to do a barrel roll) And the cursed ones whos names end with "oot" who partake in the taboo of faggotry and melon addiction. It has been fortold, And we did not listen. With sewers weakened, Infection spread. And then they came. Melon addicts, countless in numbers, Like an inferno. It could not be stopped, The gators have been weakened by invading carps, Previous waves of invading melon addicts, and sadily otters themselves. They had no strength to defend themselves or the board. Only few there where to fight. Others scattered to the winds, some hid and most died. With no ruler of 22, there was no hope. The farmers had to do it. They had sacrificed the holy of holies. The GigaMelon. Of girth and size one cannot fathom without partaking in madness. It was launched, and dropped resulting in the death of all farmers. All that is remembered of the farmers is the death song of the last melon farmer he hummed before the light fled from his eyes. He wanted us to remember this tragedy, who had caused it, and who had died so that sewers as a whole could live. https://youtube.com/watch?v=FmCHUMGxC4I [Play]
Perhaps there are more farmers out there, in the deepest depths, One can only hope but remember the 21st night of september. Melon addicts.
And there it is, in this desolated landscape, I tell you tales of fame and fortune, Of betrayal and hope. This is why we are here now, lad. This is how the CAT ★ STAR. This is how the 'Don clawed his way to the top of the wreckage. This is how the cube returned, and how rigasaurus rex challanged him to death. One cannot know how this tragity affected the other boards, I am affluent of sewers alone. Perhaps that is my weakness.

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