In 2007 the Anti-Funklers conglomerated together in New Bronklefunksonham, rushing the streets, smashing windows, upturning the houses and crumpling the general psychedelic vibe that floated through the air. The Anti-Funklers ran through the streets, brutally murdering Funkchildren, and draining their biofunk. Thousands of Funkchildren died. The IGLEs were so busy with another group of hoogly fooglies that they didn't notice what was going on until it was nearly too late. Funkcitizen's heads were caved in, purple, gooey pools of biofunk surrounding them and others and items and asphalt and pavement. The IGLEs pulled out their Government Issued Hand-Held Deployable Anti-Funkler-Absorbant Vacuums and chucked them toward the oncoming horde of Anti-Funklers. The Funkchildren and the IGLEs began to run. Running and running and running in the night through the burning streets and the overturned houses and the rubble and the screaming and the biofunk and the entrails and the Funksouls and all over and every where and up down all around it smelled of screaming and ruckus and iron and everywhere all at once and then it was gone, in a bang, a flash. The Anti-Funklers were gone, and the screaming was replaced with a silent gasp and the realization that everything was ok now and everything was safe. That was the Great Attack of 2007 (and a half) that shook the whole Polyverse and all and above and everything near and made things peaceful again.
Image Description: IGLEs moving down the streets toward the crowd of Anti-Funklers. (off camera)
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