The World According to Finn
My name is Ian Finn Morgenstern, Finn to my friends. The spring of my 18th birthday, I found and then helped dig up a Native American burial mound. Unfortunately for everyone involved, this particular mound guarded secrets best left for dead.
I pulled three things of note from that mound: a bear totem, a wooden spearhead, and the horrendous skull of a not-quite-dead monster. What followed was a summer of magic, madness, murder, and beautiful women. When put that way, it sounds sort of adventurous and fun, but it wasn't. Especially for someone who is more hobbit than ranger.
In my well-informed opinion, adventures are best read from the comfort of ones bed.
If only I had believed the mound's ghostly guardian was real, or dropped that twisted spearhead when it started singing to me, or let my dad cut down my beloved oak, things would be different. I'd probably still be a virgin, but I'd be a blissfully ignorant virgin, and you wouldn't have anything to read before bed tonight. Sorry, but I'd be okay with that.