I'm supposed to be writing a story for Trevor.

In a strange far away land known as Stelantia, there exists a royal family. In this royal family there is a king, a queen, three princes ranging in age from 12 to 17, and a young princess no older than a single year. The king is a portly man with a handlebar mustache sitting atop his lips and a peculiar balding pattern, he goes by the name of Elrayn. His wife, Queen Aradia, is said to be the fairest lady in the land... Though this isn't really saying much for a land smaller than Alaska who's completely ignorant to the outside world. Their children and all fair-skinned soulless gingers with the exception of the princess. She was born with skin darker than night and large brown eyes. There was considerable controversy near the beginning of her life.
I'm telling you this, not because it's important, or even relevant to the main event, but because I like telling stories.
No no, our real story lies in the depths of the African Jungle. Here lives a man-eating stork. He's really not a bad guy, just has very fine tastes. I call him Antonio and I'm fairly sure he used to be a prince. His eyes are scarlet, though no one knows why. His feathers are also red, but we believe this may be due to the blood stains.
Antonio loves to ski in Aspen and vacation in the Caribbean, but nothing makes him happier than blowing a lute and creating a song. You may wonder how a stork has the lips for a lute, well... I do too. If you find out, please tell me.
As it happens, he's a rather wonderful lute player. He has soul and rhythm and even a little talent. He's happy with his life. Once he tried to make it big in the Americas. The only problem was that after the shock value of a lute playing stork wears off, no one in the states has the slightest bit of good taste or culture.
It was after his first big failure that he began feasting on the flesh of his critics. Thank you America, for being enough of an ass to turn a perfectly wonderful magical stork into something worthy of the next horror story playing on your big silver screens as you shove popcorn into your greasy, lopsided pie holes.
After a particularly large meal which consisted of three shaman and a toddler, Antonio laid his weary head upon a boulder to rest his eyes. Approximately three seconds later, he was captured by hunters from the exact village he had just terrorized. They roasted him on a spit over an open flame as a sweet sauce was being prepared for the feast. Another thing worth noting is that these villagers leave nothing left unused. Everything edible is eaten and everything else can have a use found for it.
This being the case, they devoured every last morsel of poor Antonio, stomach and all. A stomach which, you might recall, was full of their friends and loved ones. So you tell me, faithful-reader-who-has-for-some-reason-continued-to-read-up-until-this-point, was this an atrocious act of human cannibalism, or simply a new variation of roasted duck with people flavoured stuffing? THE CHOICE IS YOURS.
Also, this story isn't interesting at all but it's all I could come up with because my mind if half gone. :3