Ah, balloons. So majestic, but yet so simple. So bright and full of life, and yet so easily may that be extinguished.

Every day I fight the, as I've dubbed them, "Fox-Birds". I believe they're a flightless hybrid. It would explain the wings.

Since the day they dared to invade my once peaceful lands, I've been fighting. They always come around at night. The darkness doesn't protect them from my wrath.

My family worries that one day I won't come back, that they'll pop my precious balloons, and I'll be overtaken by the soothing, cold waves. It wouldn't be the worst way to go out... if it wasn't for the fish.

I can simply pop their balloons, and slay them fast... or I can let them float, screeching as they're ripped limb from limb by the giant aquatic creatures. It depends on their mood.

My brother assists me occasionally. I appreciate it, though I wish he didn't. This is my fight, and it's for them. For my wife, my parents... my little ones.

I am the Balloon Man, and I will fight til death says otherwise.