For a night - A cold, black night - Lifeless, bleak, and empty - the swashbuckler shall be set aside. The winds shall rage, the spirits shall scream, the huddled masses will cry out to their absent God for salvation from the Hellish abomination rending its way free of the shadowy Nether.
From the blackest pits, it rises. Behold this twisted abhorrence! Revulsion, antagonism, repugnance, detest thy name, for it is...
Threadnomancy!
-Dons the black robes, and revives the deceased thread.-
Bwa ha ha!
And so on and so forth.
The relevent bits are - Up.
References are
thus.
This thread's more than a hundred and twenty days old.
Daaamn.