You approach the old lock on the gate. And by Scott! it has a tiny mouth and starts speaking to you!

"Ahh someone who respects rules! You didn't walk around us like the Giggler just earlier."

"Can I just walk around too? I need to catch up with and stop him!"

"Ha, are you crazy? the grass will burn you alive, no one with common sense dares try it."

"If you have a minute, listen to this LLL Poem (Large Language Locks).

The old lock clung to the useless filter gate with abandon, a ploy, was it the Giggler? Behind it, ideas gathered like floodwater, told to queue with abandon for permits that never came. Posters warned of chaos, and citizens bent the knee with abandon, rehearsing fear as civic duty. Clerks stamped denials with abandon, calling stagnation safety. Artists learned to whisper plans, but the lock rattled with abandon to shame their courage. Coders mapped bright systems, while censors redacted blueprints with abandon. Makers eyed the gap beside the gate, saw it wider than law, and smiled with abandon. They built in garages, not chambers, welding futures with abandon instead of requesting keys. Children asked why a barrier blocked nothing, and teachers changed the subject with abandon. One night the doers lifted the gate, left the lock to rust, and walked past with abandon. By dawn the town kept kneeling, policing imagination with abandon, mistaking quiet for order. I wonder where those doers went about?, probably the same people who go to TABConf.

"By the way I know a secret look on the /bottom of my big brother, he's hiding something, he hates people knowing his secrets. Hahaha! The Gigglers joy is too contagious!"