This is a page
A what?
A page.
A what?
I told you already

And now you have to read it.  So since I'm writing this, I suppose I have to entertain you, eh?  Yeah.  
Figures.  Here goes:
I'll start by giving you my background.  Who am I?  I'm the bridgewalker.  
I got the name when I was saving a viscous gang of oozing children from sharks.  
After my heroic rescue, I asked the naming commission for the name "saves-kids-from-things-with-big-teeth," 
but they had already given that name to that guy who made the movie with those ewoks, and so I got 
bridgewalker.  
Um….
Well, I'm running dry.  I wrote a bunch of other stuff, but it was full of things.
Prose is a dead end.  Let's move on to rhyme:

Ode to the fourth HNC:
The fourth HNC
It's the place to be
It has many bathrooms in which I draw on the walls.
It makes evvvvvvvrything….
Groovay.

What's the matter with you, cosette?  Have you been too much on your own?  So many things unclear.  
So many things unknown.

Kendall was walking in the woods one day when suddenly a gang of philanthropes appeared and forces goodwill 
and spare change upon him.  Bent under his tremendous burden of best wishes, Kendall struggles past the 
vicious snout-trees with their excellent sense of smell and terrifying critiques, and finally writhes 
exhausted to the swamp of Endor.  He searches briefly, then finds a succulent matrimony root and 
chews on it.  Instantly, he feels a general sense of motherly concern and a distended stomach.  
He tends to his stomach and the concern vanishes. He spots a friendly but man-eating swamp-crap flying 
towards him, but as he is about to run, his vision is overtaken by cartwheeling visions of epic flame.
	Kendall smoothly spirals down the vortex to the nether-regions, where he is confronted by an 
anglerfish of laughable proportion.
"GRAB MY LURE.  IT IS BRIGHT AND SHINY.  I WON'T EAT YOU.  I PROMISE."
"How stupid do you think I am?" asked Kendall.  
"REALLY STUPID.  SINCE YOU HAVE PROVEN YOUR INTELLIGENCE, I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU ON YOUR JOURNEY. 
 GRAB ON TO MY LURE AND I WILL TAKE YOU BACK TO THE SWAMP FROM WHICH YOU CAME."
Kendall studied the fish's eyes and found a soothing expression.  Wrapping his cloak around himself, he 
swings aboard the fish's broad back and grabs hold of his lure, at which point he is promptly swallowed.  
	Inside the fish, it was really dark until Kendall remembered to open his eyes.  When he did, he 
saw the most amazing thing: 
The inside of fish.  Keeping his wits about him, he conjures a light-balloon and hurries to the nearest 
well-lit exit.  Swimming upwards, he feels the iron pressure on his lungs, but he forces himself to kick 
to the surface.  Upon reaching the surface, he is astounded to find himself in the most amazing hallway in 
the world.  Murals adorn the walls.  Reconsituted ion pumps and Christmas lights decorate the walls.  He 
cocks his ears, and delicate strains of Indy rock, thrash metal, and sixties rock musicals float through the 
air, intertwining and harmonizing poorly.  Blacklights and strobes do unforeseen things to his clothing.  
The smell of incense is on the air.  He can't see anyone, but there is a general feeling of comfort, and his 
heart is held by the clumsy hand of warm teenagerly love.  The inhabitants swarm out of their rooms, 
fraternizing in the hallways, singing dancing laughing falling talking.  Someone's room is entirely 
filled with paper towels.  Someone else has had their entire life wrapped in newspaper.  Kendall looks 
around, confused, and then it hits him--He's on fourth HNC, and it's the best goddamn place in the world 
to be.  With a hearty laugh, he grabs a nearby bowl of vegetarian venison chili and digs in.

My friends, there are two morals to this story:
Kendall is you:  There is no better place to live than 4th HNC.
Also, don't trust anglerfish.  They are a tricky bunch.