I don't know my birth parents, I was left on porch steps in a wicker basket. I was raised by a wealthy family and spent most of my days deciding what to wear, attending cotillions, and learning which fork to use. I met the man of my dreams, whom my parents didn't approve of. I married the man anyways.

On our honeymoon he left me in the wilds of Siberia with nothing more than a basket of bread, three leeches, two shoes, and a broken watch. In the freezing climate a pack of wolves found me and let me live with them as if I was one of them. One day an alpaca hunter who also happened to be a sesquapedalian came, and killed all of my wolf family. He turned his gun to me, but took pity on me and decided to take me with him to Moscow where he dropped me off at the nearest train depot.

There I was discovered by an Austrian music producer who took me back to his homeland. There I had my fifteen minutes of fame becoming a one-hit-wonder. Complete with screaming fan-boys. One of my fans handed me his favourite book to sign. Reading the title- something about a Hairry Stone who told Philosophies? I questioned the 3-year-old boy who told me that it was the best series he'd ever read. I took his advice, and once I started reading I couldn't stop. Thus my career became a shambles, because instead of recording my debut album I was reading the lovely J.K. Rowling's books.

Of course I'd heard of America, the land of oppertunity. And I decided to try my luck across the Atlantic. I acted and sang my way all the way to the top of the food chain; Broadway. I was in such productions as, Llama Lullaby, Talking trees of the Woods, Teacups, and my personal favourite A Policeman and his Doughnut.

On the casts' last production of Don't Trust the Mob. My costar was unfortunately shot by one of the two members of the audience (the one who wasn't using the restrooms during our best song and dance number). We found out later that he was a member of the most adorable Mafia. I fell on my knees and begged for mercy. He looked me over and decided that I would make a wonderful addition to his mob. I went on to become the best trained assasin in his ranks. Because of this high status I had one hell of a tenth birthday party. My Uncle Vinny (His names not really 'Vinny' and he's not really my uncle, but that's what I call him) gave me a weird-lookin' book with an apple on the cover. He said he found it in a bathroom and thought I might like it.

That was a couple of years ago. I am now retired from the 'family business' and live in a small country town that no one has heard of, earning a living by wrangling cattle, and playing the electric harmonica. I also write stories for a living, and don't get a penny for it. I'm currently known as *information censored* and you may call me such.