"Oh God" thought Greg Heffley.

They were going to make him eat the cheese.

He was actually going to be forced to eat it.

"I'm allergic to diary" pleaded Greg.

"Whaddaya think guys" said the teen, "Should we let him off"

Then another one walked up and punched him in the gut.

"Should have thought about your damn allergies before you went around messin' with us"

Suddenly Greg was shoved down until his face was an inch from the cheese.

Its cloying stench overpowered his olfactory senses and Greg saw his life flash before his eyes.

Then Greg died.

XXX

When Greg woke up he saw a massive stag charging at him.

He ran for his life.

Somehow he managed to get transported into a forest, a snowing one.

He assumed he had to be pretty far up North, that it was snowing in the summer.

But forget that, he was seconds from being gored by a damn stag.

Greg made it into a clearing and saw a giant she-wolf playing with her pups.

Greg knew he was being stupid, but he couldn't let the stag kill the wolf.

He leapt at the stag only to bounce off.

If it was not going to kill him before, it sure would now.

Then the she-wolf leapt onto the stag and killed it.

It went over and licked Greg's face as thanks and scampered off.

Soon a group of men found Greg standing over the stag's carcass.

"Guys, its not what it looks like" Greg pleaded.

"An interesting omen, Ned, the stag, the sigil of house Baratheon lies dead. What could this possibly mean"

"Enough of your omens, its simple enough, this lad here was hungry and killed the stag for a meal"

"No those like look bite marks, and big ones, I dare say... A direwolf. It must be, Ned do you realize, the sigil of House Stark killing the sigil of Baratheon"

"Lad come here", Greg walked over, "What is your name,lad?"

"Greg Heffley, ser", said Greg.

"Oy! He's a lord not a fucking ser" said one of the men and he slammed the broad side of his sword into Greg's face.

Greg collapsed.