Twice a year, we patiently--or impatiently so--wait for the birth of the lament boxes from their twisted little orchard; thrown into their cages and rattled harder than a politician and a hooker's encounter.

We scream, we cry, we gnash our teeth and scream for salvation from finding these boxes, often without understanding the true implications and nefarious thoughts behind those that participate in the hunt.

So remember--when you have a few curt and vitriol-laced words to type in the chat--read this before you jump. It may be your reprieve you've had all along.

Ave Twisted Hunt!

I will not condemn merchants for the unholy lag of SL--for they may offer tasty tidbits of freebies from the goodness of their black hearts.

I will love thy fellow hunter and merchant - and loathe every color of the rainbow.

I will have flashbacks at the sight of any spinning boxes.

I will not lay curses upon the heads of merchants for their wickedness - for they are the key to the next landmark.

I will embrace the evil, and forsake the scanners with their deceptive lies.

I will laugh when it's over at decoys and their clever ruse to lead me astray from the path of Twisted.

I will not call out locations in local, or chat - for my sins shall come like the plague unto all hunters that follow me.

I will fight tooth and nail to the end--and dance that dance of Twistedness that lies in wait--for it's madness holds wisdom and my Survivor Tag.

I will not bitch. I will not bitch. I will not bitch. I may cry though.

I will be inspired by the minds of others and their twisted gifts, and the comradery of those who throw themselves in the fray for these boxes.

I will be kind to the Hint Givers--because they really don't have to talcum powder my ass on this. I will thank them.

I will remember a "thank you" is a gift on this hunt.

I will remember the battle--I will remember the frustration--the agony--and the hell--and I will say "Well... when the fuck are we doing it again?"