(before reading this, this was made just for fun, and there could be an official version of this story that differs from this one.)
Once upon a time (don’t worry, dudes, this isn’t a fairy tale),
In the days of old,
There lived tribe called the Pigmen,
Who loved stealing gold.
They attacked anyone they saw,
And killed them all,
Their golden swords’ bling left people in awe.
The people had a enough,
So they summoned the Wither,
And he was quite rough.
A curse on the tribe is what he lay,
And then the Wither went on to say,
“From your deeds you must go,
to the heat of the great dungeon that lay far below.”
There they went accepting their debt,
Of a thousand eternities where it’s impossible to get wet.
There they learned to only defend,
And when a friend is in need,
A hand you shall lend.
So, yeah, just, don’t mess with the Pigmen.