There was a boy, born to peasants. He was a scrawny little twit. His blonde hair always appeared dark, caked in dirt from the fields where he helped his father. If he were a lucky boy, he’d farm, marry a girl from the village, make children who could help with the farm work, pass the land down to them and their families, and die asleep at the ripe old age of 45. The good old days, ya know? But this was no lucky boy, this was the chosen one. He who would destroy unfair charges or levies against citizens.
THE TAILGATE: A Graphical Preview of Texas A&M vs. North Carolina State
