A/N: This chapter probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but then again neither did Daffodil (Buttercup's younger sister). Basic story generated (after word prompts) at plot-generator dot org dot uk slash story slash. It creates a very basic story with somewhat random placement of the word answers you provide prior to the story being generated, resulting in something almost as if the Greek poet Homer told a story while drunk. (Although I suppose Homer Simpson will do too.) I've added material in italics to attempt to make slightly more sense out of the original and have a little more fun with it. I added my additional material as I read the generated story on first pass.

I Loved and Lost and Loved and Lost and Loved Again

Daffodil Flowers had always loved peaceful Florin with its combative, concerned castle. It was a place where she felt glum.

The only reason Daffy, as she was known to her family in the kingdom of Guilder, loved Florin was that it was far away from the family farm where she was told she had to work to eat - a prospect that she didn't like at all and a policy she felt was quite old-fashioned. She was never going to find her true love if she had to spend all her time working. In reality, she spent most of her time daydreaming when she should have been working, according to her father. Daffy could fall in love at the drop of a hat and was wondering where the nearest hatmaker lived. Now in the castle where the recent fight for control of Florin had taken place, she still hadn't gotten a husband yet and that was a cause of glumness.

She was a brusque, businesslike, kool-aid drinker with tall lungs and willowy arteries. Her friends saw her as a panicky, perfect pest. Once, she had even brought a bloody three-legged cat back from the brink of death. That's the sort of woman he was.

Owing to the tall lungs, she had quite the volume level even when she whispered. Willowy arteries in the legs ran in the family, she was told, so she made it a point to never run.

I think we all know the kool-aid drinking speaks for itself.

And, I'm sad to report that the cat died of neglect while she was gone for a week trying to find a new boyfriend - parallel might be drawn much like how they like to heal convicted prisoners before hanging them.

Daffodil walked over to the window and reflected on her prosperous surroundings. The cloud teased like squeezing horses.

Ever since she had tried to throw herself at Andy Night-Wolf, she was certain that she belonged in the castle in Florin. If she couldn't have King Humperdinck, or Inigo Montoya, or Stan the baker, or Oliver the barkeep, or Martin the...well, you get the idea. Labor Day was coming up, and if she could find a man then he'd be home ALL day that day.

Don't ask about squeezing horses. There are some things that one simply doesn't mention in company, polite or otherwise.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Andy Night-Wolf. Andy was a sly honest with wrinkled lungs and fair arteries.

Andy was hard-working, smart, and he had a job. Even with a limp, his fair arteries were better than her willowy ones. Although they say it's what is inside a man that is important, Daffy figured that wrinkled lungs were okay as long as she didn't think about them too much. Which was easy, since Daffy didn't think about ANYTHING too much.

Daffodil gulped. She was not prepared for Andy.

Actually, Daffy was VERY MUCH prepared for Andy. She just hadn't finished perfecting her pick-up lines yet, since her last ten attempts hadn't worked with him.

As Daffodil stepped outside and Andy came closer, she could see the victorious smile on his face.

Hopefully the smile was from some scientific achievement. She had never seen him with a woman, so hopefully there wasn't any competition.

Andy glared with all the wrath of 3 jovial sturdy snails. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want To be left alone."

Snails can be very wrathful when provoked; few people know this since their expressions are hard to read and it takes forever for them to do anything. Three of them would just be triple the wrath.

Daffodil looked back, even more elated and still fingering the transparent potato. "Andy, marry me," she replied.

She had hoped the transparent potato would arouse his scientific curiosity now, wanting to arouse other things later. But unfortunately, he looked right through the transparent potato as if it wasn't there.

They looked at each other with ecstatic feelings, like two mushy, miniature monkeys hopping at a very resourceful anniversary, which had baroque music playing in the background and two weird uncles digging to the beat.

I think this goes without saying.

Daffodil studied Andy's wrinkled lungs and fair arteries. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Daffodil in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't hate you Andy."

As long as a man lived and breathed, Daffy didn't hate him. With the exception of some very close relatives, each was a potential husband if fate or a sudden accident worked out.

Andy looked depressed, his emotions raw like a sticky, stagnant shoe.

Was he ever going to be rid of this girl so he could concentrate on his job as science advisor to the King? Besides, he needed to develop a shoe dryer/deodorizer soon, now that he thought of it.

Daffodil could actually hear Andy's emotions shatter into 682 pieces. Then the sly honest hurried away into the distance.

Free at last! Andy (along with all 682 pieces, thanks to some handy superglue) left while the getting was good. And when it came to escaping Daffodil, every escape was good.

Not even a drink of kool-aid would calm Daffodil's nerves tonight.

No, but there were a few things she could mix with the kool-aid that would most certainly help.

(Wonder if it's) THE END

A/N: I tried using another adventure generator online first, but it kept getting characters and pronouns mixed up making it impossible to create a coherent story; so, I went with a simpler process and then threw in a little elaboration. At least the generator didn't get the characters mixed up.

For the record, Daffy did find love (or at least mutual like) with an editor and that was how she published her book mentioned in the original ending a couple of chapters back. Ah, the good old days when stories ended at the end and didn't drag on, yelling and being pulled through the literary mud like...er...this one.