Under the gentlest moonlights glow, the Forest of Biscuits and Tea took on a hue of serenity. Bathed in the soft silver light, the ancient macaron-topped trees stood like sentinels, their hats forming a sheltering canopy, as if telling those who pass by to let go of the worries and enjoy the simplicity of life, even if it is just this tiny moment in the eternity of eternities . Under the mighty yet gentle shade of these delectable flora, one could rest easy.

In this enchanted realm, where dreams and reality are intertwined by the strings of longing, a longing to get away from the duality of the mundanity and activity of life, Fischer, the red-hooded and handsome goblin, with his sharp teeth gleaming in twilight glee, found himself amidst a whimsical chase.

With his trusty fishing pole in hand, he prayed Prince Silverfish upstream as the regal majesty, with its great vitality, swam faster against the current of the shimmering tea that pierced the sweet tooth valley with its bittersweet tastiness, building distance with his pursuer.

The prince, bedecked with coruscant silver armor, his head adorned with a crown of the most precious pearls, moved as if the weight did not bother him — it is quite the magnificent sight. He continued to challenge Fischer's endurance with a sustained effort against the current, swishing left and right to throw off the goblin's aim — it is made evident by the fact that the hook had missed him thrice, in quick succession.

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Fischer, for his part, found it clever to unleash his hook towards a branch on the opposing side of the flowing tea. The hook magically wrapped around the branch; Fischer pulled on it as a test. The test’s results came out with resounding success. 

Spotting a biscotti gliding downstream, minding its own business, Fischer hopped on it and pulled on his fishing pole. He reeled himself towards the opposite bank, water splashed beneath him as the amazing speeds he and his biscotti were going made it hop on and on as they approached land once more.

Landing perfectly on the opposite bank, Fischer then sharpened his gaze towards the direction of that oh-so tasty prince. Smiling with gleaming glee, he then threw his hook towards a branch on the opposite bank and repeated the process: hook, pull, reel in and surf. He kept on repeating and refining the process of biscuit riding for repetition is the mother of learning. He slowly closed the distance as an even bigger grin appeared on his face when he could finally make out the befuddled look the Silverfish gave him as it desperately tried to increase the distance.

Try as it might, nobody can overwhelm the goblin's spite. The distance closed even further as this story will soon come to a bloody yet filling conclusion.

Just as when Fischer was about to finally catch up, mouth open; tongue reaching out for his soon-to-be meal, his teeth like daggers, ready to viscously tear the dear horrified monarch apart — a translucent hand grabbed him by the neck, and yanked him towards the distant and indifferent mooncake. 

There he goes, the hero of the realm, soaring into the sky, like an angel being called forth by the gods to do his duty and save another one. But one could ask, is this really what he wanted? Perhaps the gods could be more kind and let him tear the Silverfish into bloody, delightful bits.