Our quest begins with Sir Ryan the Hansom departing from the Sub Isle of the Way, where our hero had just finished successfully slaying the tyrant king Myron Cope and his band of monster Kielbasa sandwiches.

I began my way down the rode home when there was a flash in the middle of the road and a demon appeared and said bring me these things three; a virgin, a thigh bone from a goat on the great Clearfield mountain, and a copy of the spell binding fourth installment of Harry Potter.

So I set off with my mighty steed; threadbare and my knapsack of mini muffins and handy snacks to keep me for the long journey ahead. I also decided to bring my laptop computer of the wolfs bane for gaming, mystical ball of bounce, Swiss Brick of cheese, Star Wars Storm Trooper mug, and the enchanted bar of cleansing. Not to forget the most vital accessory ye old lithium backup battery of the spiders venom (for extended laptop usage). After all had been packed into the glorious fanny pack of storage and mystical pack of the back the journey could now begin.

After reaching only minutes away from town I met a then young Neil wearing his now signature white suit. Feeling slightly appalled at the site of him by the road and strangely attracted I invited him to join me on my steed through a magical journey through the mysterious Woods of Penn. Both of us very young and not knowing of the hidden dangers that lay ahead of us.

Later that evening after a long and irritating ride through backlands country we finally laid our steed to rest and began to build camp in some suspicious looking high grass filled with nymphs and other magic beings of the woodlands. Since it is more interesting to lay down to camp in an area filled with much danger as apposed to the safety of the public restroom that could be found across the street at a Pennsylvanian rest stop we decided to stay there for the night and take our luck with the nymphs and avoid truckers at all costs.

I decided to stay at the site and build a crude shelter out of only Neil's suit coat and a small amount of timber that had been lying around. When it had been finished and I used my tent safety checklist to be sure of the security I then began making clever and only slightly curious looking traps all around the camp area, in case of wondering truckers or members of the nymph persuasion. For this task I thought back to my years of tap lessons I was forced to take and cursed my parents, I then began to dig a large pit and cover it with leaves so as to make it indistinguishable from the floor of the woodland passage. On the top of the leaves I placed one handy snack to use for persuasion to the top of the pit.

After this labor of strength and cunning had been completely I then began to wait for the bounty of twigs that should be brought to me by Neil, but I had no such luck. He was taking his sweet time obviously and it was turning dark, and I started to get scared. I just don't know what I would do if I ever lost my Neil, so I decided to call his cell phone. There was no answer and he had been too simple to set up his voice mail, making not only the automatic teller clearly disappointed but also worked as a trigger to release terrible thoughts throughout my head. What if he were lost?

Then I heard a crackling in the woods, and I could smell engine grease, it was the work of truckers, hairy gay ones. I had but several advantages, my wit, agility and also my trap. They slowly began to close in on me and I noticed they had dressed Neil in an older woman's sun dress purchased at Wal-Mart and then they began their Siren trucker dance. I was nearly powerless against their crotch less leather chaps of despair when two dove for my bait and feel into my pit in which was nearly 3 feet deep and impossible to escape from. At this site many of the fellow truckers were distracted just long enough for Neil to break loose and come to my side. But the battle was not over yet, they began to circle around us picking up their naughty dance of love when Neil knocked me over.

"Is Neil with them!? He can't be he is too pure, I can feel goodness in his soul." But He kept me pinned to the ground and the truckers grew ever closer, I then began my screams when all of a sudden Neil ripped open his top to show his golden fleece of chest hair paralyzing the truckers and sending them into a craze.

"Neil saved me"

But we were not yet out of this predicament, I then though quickly and opened a can of beans with a stone, the only weakness to a trucker; they all immediately ran to it to gain their energy back. Even though they were gone now they would be back, probably not this night Neil's heroics had scared them enough that they will think before coming back, hopefully.

"I had no idea your had the golden fleece of chest hair Neil." I exclaimed.

"I was afraid to tell you, I surely know that many men have been sent after me to obtain my magic furry power, and I wasn't sure if you'd allow me to join you on your quest."

"I was heard of a man with the same such powers, last name Diamond, come to think of it, it was you, you're THE Neil Diamond?"

"I am, but I ask of you to never let anyone ever know of this because if were to get out both of our lives will be in great peril."

"I agree." After that me and Neil made a pact to never leave the other person unless it was positively necessary.

Although he had saved my life the chest hair thing still creeped me out so before he woke up I tied his arms together and laid a great log over his legs and rode off. I never saw Neil again, although I have heard stories of the truckers coming back and having their way with him and he then going on to make yuppie music but that is only folklore and I'm not sure what parts to believe.
By then my name was well known from the heroics I had displayed at the battle of Truckendor (The trucker village at the Pennsylvanian Rest Stop) and so I rode all night and slept all day so to not be seen by the forces of evil that now feared me. I decided to first embark to find the 4th and final Harry Potter Chronicle at the local book suppository, Walden o Books. When I had reached ye old DuBois Market place home of many fine arts I quickly figured the force fields in the walls that were enchanted with a force field. I then used my might to push through this obstacle and enter the fortress. I then proceeded to slay all in my way until I reached the suppository of books where I then asked for the 4th Harry Potter Chronicle.

The sage then asked me to rise and I noticed a slight red glint in their eyes, and I quickly realized this was a place of much hate. The sage noticing my unrest then threw off their cloak to show their true self, Satan.

The dark lord of the nether region then threw a quick spell of haste on herself to improve agility and speed, that of which has never been seen by my war weary eyes. I then placed a spell a fire protection over myself to try to take the blunt of the attacks. Much to my surprise the demon then summoned the book mark of bronze to impale me, using my reflexes I managed to nearly dodge it leaving only a cut on my arm. I would have thought the demon wouldn't come at me like that when she knew she might miss. I then summoned the thunder of the heavens to come strike her down, and with one leap into the air my fist filled with the energy of a thousand stars in which I used to dispose of the demon, leaving her writhing in pain on the floor below me. I then licked the blood from the book mark and used it to cut the head from her and then placed it in a zip lock quick lock bag to keep it fresh and used a nearby marker to label the bag incase I forgot what was in it.

I then closed the metal gates into the suppository to ensure my safety while searching the dusty catacombs for a copy of this sacred book. After searching for hours in the dark corridors I came across a single ray of light beating down upon a dusty book that had been placed in a satin pillow case. I decided to use my x-ray goggles I received from an apprentice who had attended cub scouts to explore the contents of the bag. It indeed was Harry Potter, but there was a note with it, the note read to never allow anyone one being to possess all 4 chronicles of Potter less their powers become more than what any man has ever seen.

I then remember I forgot where the demon was and also it looked a lot like a loud mouth Billy bass fish. And I merely imagined what it had said, which was in reality "take me to the river." After remembering this I decided to call Mike Wascovich the austere to come over to see how much my paintball gun hurts whenever it hits open flesh.

In conclusion, this story teaches you to never camp out beside truck stops, take talking novelty items seriously, smoke crack, or associate with Neil Diamond in anyway.