Upon my back a lucky sack.

Upon my back a lucky sack

The wisest animals whisper,
Long time no fear
Henry-Dylan had heard them
For he was very brave.
So brave in fact he decided to take the perilous walk up the mountain to the home of the man without a name.

The man without a name was a menace. A real horror. More monster than man. For over a hundred years he had been eating the hearts of those who wandered to his home, seeking his name in vain.

Henry-Dylan wasn’t scared. Up the mountain. Up up up he sang,
“Upon my back, my lucky sack”

At the top Henry-Dylan found a stone cottage with a wooden door. He knocked three times.
Boom Boom Boom . The door opened. Inside was a sparse room. A fire crackled wickedly. Upon a rug on the floor beside the fire sat... the man without a name.

If you guess my name I will stitch you a cloak to make you riches sneered the man, a lopsided grin fixed upon his sly face,
If you do not I will cut out your heart with a spoon and eat it.

Henry-Dylan raised an eyebrow and looked at the floor, he noticed it was stained here and there with dark patches of old, crusted blood.

I know your name, replied Henry-Dylan impishly,

I got it from these lips, and smack out of his sack Henry-Dylan pulled the severed lips of Rumplestiltskin, which he had cut off using the silver scissors given to him by his grand mama.

Your name is

NeedleStrongWinkle

Now stitch me my cloak.

The next day Henry-Dylan closed the cottage door behind him with a click. Click!

Then beaming down the mountain in a fancy new cloak of silver and gold he sung his sacks song loud. Loud enough to make the heavens smile.