My name is Harold. I am a piñata. I live with my three piñata children in a land full of piñatas, Canada. In Canada everyone is a piñata and we all live normal piñata lives. I am a detective, and I am constantly in search of my wife's killers. The only thing I know about them is that they live in Michigan, and are about eight years old. One night my wife was walking home from her job, she is a piñata lawyer, and about twenty eight year olds beat her to death with sticks and golf clubs. The worst part was that after the killed her they ate her sweet, delectable, candy insides. The whole time. The laughed and smiled. After they killed my wife they left town, probably to kill more piñatas. After that the piñata community changed. Piñata children were being eaten daily. It was not a safe place to be. The piñatas eventually started eating each other, then we're moved to party stores. Humans took over our native land, and now live there.