The space ship killed him at one am. He was walking through the snowing desert in may in southern Arizona. Very strange, everything about the scene, its inversion included.
They found his body charred beyond recognition. No one would ever be able to tell that it was Mr. MGW. Such was the beauty of the crime. The nuclear space ship weapon hit directly beneath him, shredding his flesh and burning his body to a point where even his own mother, even if she were really smart and pereceptive, couldn't see who or how he was.
But she was far, far away, and MGW was all, all alone, alone in a wide, wide desert. A saint was called in to take pity upon his lifeless form, but the saint walked away, and MGW's soul would remain eternally in agony. He was like a crayoned in oil tanker on a apastel sea, maybe even the pacific ocean, or just a pasteled-in ocean in general. Such was his serenity.
After his family identified his remains, MGW's tombstone was made. It read
"A good man, forever."
"Hey, gravethief, exhumer! Leave my bones alone. Dun dun. Dundundun, dun dun."
"All in all, RIP"
He was buried alone. He lived alone, suffered alone, died alone. That;s why the called it Gundam Wing. He would never have asked it to be any other way. The sun flickered out, and all those gathered want3ed to say something to honor a great man, but to be brief about it, they were all afraid. They missed their chance. The moral is not hard to see: can any man be so different? Can any flesh-bound creature take another path? Could we hope for any higher goals, any greater meaning? Doubtless yes. MGW was a fool. That is why we honor him: he was the noblest of fools. Never forget. Never avert your eyes, lest ye overlook such a man. What a work.
fin
Hopefully you all see the lessons of what I wrote and never make such mistakes. That's allwe can pray for, I thnk.