More people started to spread to the colonies in a North America. There was a colony called Massachusetts. The people of Massachusetts were friends with a neighboring Indian tribe, the Wampanoag. They would trade goods back and forth, coming together to bloodily murder the innocent dear and rabbits of the forest. It was harmony. But as Massachusetts grew larger, they no longer needed the Wampanoag tribe. They grew canned corn all by themselves, and caught frozen fish from GroceryStore Stream without any help from the Wampanoag. Massachusetts people took more and more land away from the Wampanoag to feed the factorial beast they called a colony. The leader of Wampanoag, Metacom, cried and wrote in his diary about how upset he was.
There was a man from Wampanoag, who left his tiny tribe. In his teenage years, he worked and lived in the colonies. After working minimum wage for over ten years, he had somehow saved up enough money to go to Harvard college. Harvard was the place that all the cool farmhands went to. It was a pretty good college. He was given a Christian name, and his old name was cast aside into the "dumb ideas" pile. His new name was John Sassamon. It was a really terrible and ugly name, and it sounded like Sassyman. but if you knew his old name you'd be glad he got the new one. (It was Gayfeather. Who in the hay names their kid Gayfeather!? I guess Gayfeather is no different from Sassyman.)
John Sassyman knew Metacom well. Because Sassyman knew how to read and write English, he often carried messages back and forth from the bumbling idiots of Wampanoag to the English. But now Sassyman was carrying a warning to Plymoth. Sassyman sashayed through the palace. "Everybody listen up now y'all. You know that Metacom guy? He has fabulous taste in scarves, but anyways, he plans to try and overthrow all y'all with the help of all his little Indian friends! Isn't that just terrible! And don't y'all go tattling, because if Metacom finds out he will have my shiny, tattooed butt ex-eeee-CUTED!" Sassyman said to the governor of Plymouth, Josiah Winslow. "What the heck?" Josiah said. "Y'all see what I did there? Ex-eee-CUTED? Because I'm just as cute as my hairdresser, Quincy James?" Sassyman said, gesturing with his hands. Josiah was repulsed, "Oh, um, okay then. Thanks for the warning, but the Wampanoag are bumbling idiots. All Indians are bumbling idiots. WE ARE THE WHITE MAN. WE ARE STRONG." Josiah said, and finished with a caveman-like shout, and he pounded his chest. Now it was Sassyman's turn to be repulsed.
A week later, Sassyman was found dead in a pool of glitter. His neck was broken, and his fabulous suit mangled. There was a note attached to his goatee, made of cut-out magazine letters. It read: "Beewear us. We R indeeyins." The Indians couldn't spell that well. Josiah was appalled, maybe Sassyman and his excessive sashaying was right! A few of Josiah's men caught the Indians who had drowned Sassyman in the glitter. They had the Indians executed, and nothing about it was as cute as Quincy James.
Metacom was furious. How dare the white man deal out just and fair punishment for murder-by-glitter! Metacom was so mad, he had the Indians attack a small colony and burn it down. Then Josiah got mad, and attacked an Indian camp. Then Metacom got even angrier, and attacked another colony. Revenge went back and forth. Then Josiah got together a crapton of soldiers and practically wiped out Metacom's forces in a fight by a swamp. The fight was named The Fight Where Josiah Got A Crapton Of Soldiers And Opened A Can Of Whoopbutt On Metacom By A Swamp. Metacom ran to the Mohawk tribe and begged for reinforcements, but the wise and generously hair-gelled Mohawks refused. So Metacom kept fighting with what he had left.
So then the English won, and they hung up Metacom's head in the town square. They left it up, even after it started to stink, so Sassyman could look down from heaven and know he hadn't died in vain.