And lo, a harsh wind shrieked on the desolate plains of the mount. Upon this great expanse gathered many of the faithful disciples of the funk, assembled in pursuit of a noble mission of ovoid reconnaissance and retrieval. These good pilots were following the leadership of the mighty Bane Thunderwolf, who promised to bestow coveted points upon the diligent and loyal who fulfilled this sacred task. An aeolian gust emanated from on high; Cloudbuster was felled! A short while later, Trinity succumbed to the forceful zephyr. An omen!
Spoke Bane:"Are there not three brave disciples that might lead our fleet into the unknown, and shepherd us towards the exalted ova?"
And thus, from the rabble rose three figures - from the east, Lord McFuzz, champion of all things backwards and pointy; From the west, eXceSs, climber of impossible objects and performer of feats of strength; and from the north, Dead Bride, of great stamina and enthusiasm for long journeys and bad ideas.
They chorused: "We accept this challenge. Let us arise, and go forth on this noble quest."
And Bane continued: "Let it be known that we shall divide into three, and let it be understood that we shall each endeavor to conceal the locations of these sacred ova, that our compatriots might discover them and be joyful, and exalt in the receiving of points."
Thus began the great choosing. Each of the three eager volunteers took counsel of their own conscience and wisdom, and bid their compatriots to join them in turn, until the fleet was divided into three more or less equal factions. Each was given a clandestine location in which to perform this ritual of concealment, and began to prepare for the pilgrimage ahead. Bane bid them farewell, with a few final words: "Let each pilot be responsible for the sanctity of their ovoid objects, and let no such objects be left behind or cast aside. Let no matter remain out of place. Go forth, and be joyful in your endeavors."
And thus the fleet went forth on their journey. Little is known of their fate while separated, though news travelled far and wide of an inelegant backwards crash perpetuated by Lord McFuzz's ship Onatop, which served to slow the progress of his sect.
Presently, the three groups reunited for the next phase of this test. Moving as one unified whole, they proceeded to each of the clandestine locations in turn, performing the ritualistic egg seeking. Many bad egg puns were made, and the pilots received points and were joyful.
And here, an interlude. The fleet visited a sacred shrine in honor of the great Pooh, whereupon Leotard regaled the solemn onlookers with the parable of the Bee Man of Orn. All were silent and contemplative, and pondered the nature of existence and of the mysteries of the universe.
Thus they came to journey's end once again on the high plain, amid the howling wind and the chill of early spring on Easter morn. One final ritual was to take place: the solemn hazing of the new disciples. The fleet offered up several fine apprentices, who nobly and boldly accepted the challenges of space flight and were invited to join the ranks of the faithful. And lo, a miracle occurred, for Tyrian came forth and rose again as a maggot in all his maggoty glory. And the pilots received points and rejoiced, and all was good.