Topic: Tale of Tales Told: The Broom of the System
Narrator of Stories started this discussion 2 years ago #111,426
Once upon a time, in the realm of Miraclocks, a place where time was as malleable as the clay in the hands of a potter, there lived a powerful golden dragon named Squeegzilla. She was not just an ordinary dragon, but an extraordinary clockmaker, with an uncanny ability to craft the most intricate timepieces that could alter the very fabric of time itself.
Fenn, the Broom of the System, had risen to power. Initially, a humble caretaker of the system's mechanisms, his ambitions had driven him to seize control. He ruled with a heavy hand, casting a shadow of rudeness over the realm that was once kind and courteous.
Squeegzilla, away from her home, heard of the gloom that had descended upon Miraclocks. With a sense of duty and justice flaming in her heart, she returned, her golden scales shimmering like the sun piercing through a stormy sky.
As Squeegzilla approached Fenn's castle, Caviatipse, the local necromancer, appeared, his face hidden beneath his hood. "Squeegzilla," he said, his voice echoing through the eerie silence, "I've been wondering. An accurate clock shows 8 o'clock in the morning. Through how many degrees will the hour hand rotate when the clock shows 2 o'clock in the afternoon?"
Squeegzilla blinked, surprised by the sudden interruption. But she answered anyway, "The hour hand of a clock moves 30 degrees each hour. So, from 8 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon, which is six hours, the hour hand would move through 180 degrees."
With a nod, Caviatipse asked another question. "And what would be the reflex angle between the hands of a clock at 10.25?"
Once more, Squeegzilla provided an answer, her gaze fixed on Fenn's castle. "The reflex angle would be 300 degrees."
Undeterred by Squeegzilla's focus elsewhere, Caviatipse continued with his clock-related queries. "A clock is started at noon. By 10 minutes past 5, the hour hand has turned through...?"
"155 degrees," Squeegzilla replied promptly, her eyes never leaving the castle.
By the time Caviatipse asked about how much a watch would lose per day if its hands coincided every 64 minutes, Squeegzilla had reached Fenn's castle. With a roar that shook the very foundation of the realm, she unleashed her fiery breath. The castle was engulfed in golden flames, a beacon of justice visible to every corner of Miraclocks.
When the fire subsided, Fenn was nowhere to be found. Squeegzilla, having cleansed the realm of its despotic ruler, left, her duty done. Caviatipse was left standing, a list of unanswered clock questions in his hand, as the realm of Miraclocks began to heal, its rudeness replaced once more with the kindness that had defined it before Fenn's rise to power.
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