"Check us out! We're the new Mark Prindle...except cooler!"
The Angels and Saxons and Celts and Scots and Toads all settled in three quaint little towns: Sussex, Essex, and Wessex. Their lives were complex, and they were apt to be vexed, historians attribute this to being highly oversexed... But whatever their reason for having a fetish for X, there they were, quaintly banging rocks in the mud with no leader.
Then one quaint morn, Nruhnth, head clansman of the Elk tribe decided to make war, not love, to the Wessexians and drive them forever from their quaint land of X. He failed. But, his brother, Thnhurn, succeeded five years later. Thnhurn took for himself a bride, Georgia, from the land of Ire far across the sea.
Georgia bore for Thnhurn five sons. Wolfwulf, Wulfwolf, Wulfgar, Mintfresh, and Alice. And so, Thnhurn and his five sons made Wessex a quaint land of grand mead halls and unformidable foes so that warriors would come from quaint lands to get drunk and face unformidable foes.
Then, Wolfwulf, Wulfwolf, Wulfgar, Mintfresh, and Alice all decided to make up names for themselves, for though the mead halls ran thick with quaint meading, and many warriors were drunk off their formidable bellies, the five sons of Thnhurn were bored. Wolfwulf named himself the Saucepan of Wessex, Wulfwolf was dubbed the Wolf of Wessex, Wulfgar the Archduke of Wessex, Mintfresh the Cardinal of Rome, and Alice named himself Tucker of Wessex.
These were all looked upon as fine names, until one mead warrior rose up and quaintly said, "I'm Tucker of Wessex." Whereupon Alice was stripped of his title and banished from the kingdom of Wessex!
"Oh, that I should be banished from the Kingdom of my father to be but a Danish in a forgein land! I hereby call myself Alice, Earl* of Wessex...for I am quaintly sorrowed!"
And upon hearing Alice's sudden change of name, the mead hall clamored with quaint glee and accepted him once again as a hero of that time.
*Earl means rotunda.