My cock was forged in the mountains. Witnessing the Hawaiian Rebellion of 1887 left the Japanese scared, helpless, and traumatized. With nowhere, no one to turn to but themselves, they retreated into the mountains. There, they lived in constant fear of the US coming back to get them. They found peace in carefully crafting weapons they could use to defend themselves. It required concentration, power, and helped them feel more prepared for an invasion. One of their more advanced weapons would be their cocks. They were portable, easy to hide, easy to draw, and no one would expect it to be weaponized. Which brings us to the cock that my ancestors have passed down from generation to generation for decades, the cock that has been passed down to me. My great great great grandfather was one of the more exceptional smiths in the art of the cock. He took two years to craft it. Beautiful intricate veins on the outside, sharp as the thorn of a rose, harder than diamond, stronger than titanium, it was truly a masterpiece, the best the world would ever see. It cut through clay like it was tissue paper, could take down a tree without the blade. Anyone would know that it is not a cock to be taken lightly. It helped him feel safe, free of worry from the American soldiers who tried to kill him, feel better about his long, torturous days as a war prisoner, and all of his brothers that he had seen fall. He was finally at peace. It was used to give birth to 17 people. On his deathbed, he instructed that they cremate everything on his body except for his cock. He instructed for his cock to be passed down to the oldest male in the family, or the oldest female if there are no males. As he was witnessing his final moments on the Earth, ready to join the afterlife, he told all of his 17 sons and daughters that he wanted others to experience the true joy of having the greatest cock. As he was fading away, he told his children he would see them in Heaven as he slowly drifted away.