Once long ago when the Hippoists were still coming together, a great problem arrose. Several Hippoist of different races claimed to be the first TRUE Hippoists. All races represented said that the Hippo had favored them. The people of white skin said that they were the same color as the Hippo and therefore true Hippoist. While the people of dark skin said that the Hippo had the soul of themselves and therefore they were the true hippoist. The people of yellow skin claimed the hippos first choice of champions showed his preference to them. And on and on it went, day and night they argued. The Grand Visor went and summoned the Hippo himself to speak with his followers. The Hippo in his due time came and heard all of the claims of each race. And he asked them to wait until dawn the next morning to hear his verdict. The Hippoists continued to bicker and squabble for most of the night and tensions grew to such levels as violence almost broke out amoung them. And when a boiling point was almost reached, the sun shone over the mountains, and in the first few rays of light, in the gray dawn of early morning, everyone was just a shade of grey, all were as grey as the hippo was. A hushed silence fell on the masses and from the rising sun the Hippo appeared in his many colored coat. The coat was of long stripes that messed and flowed with one another. Each stripe held a different color, and each color looked different depending on the angle of the viewer and amount of light. And anyone looking at the coat long enough was sure to get the odd feeling that each stripe was changing places, but never when you were looking dirrectly at them. For a long time the Hippo stood there in all of the splender of a new day. And finally he spoke. "To all who claim I have favored their race, know I have favored all races. I did not make my choices to upset or belittle the others, but to welcome each and everyone. It is obvious to me that you need a symbol and from now on I shall wear this cloak, but remember this day, this very morning when for a moment you were all the gray of the hippo." With that the Grand Hippo stepped away and the light flooded from behind him, returning the colors to the skin of the people. That is why no one is the true hippoist, and everyone is the true hippoist.

From the book of "Warm Fuzzy Memories" by the Grand Visor