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One warm summer day, two beautifully handsome and not narcissistic boys were born to the Eve of the Alpha clan. The better of the two was gratefully named Dylan, whereas the lesser was woefully called Alan.

Their story begins as their mother places them near the fire and occasionally waves her finger to Alan, whom even as a child was mischievous enough to wander away. In their childhood, the Alpha camp was surrounded by boars. Unfortunately, the only older sister that they knew passed away to these hazardous beasts. There was no time for mourning, as Eve had to act fast to keep her twins, and her only living daughter, Ophelia, alive. She skillfully crafted a bow that soon terrorized the boar population and "brought them to extinction," as per her words. With the crisis brought to its knees, the twins grew up smart and knowing they were very much loved.

As the years carried on, it soon became time for the twins to choose a profession for their livelihood. "Farm," their mother suggested, "there are dirt piles down south." Dylan was adept at playing in the dirt and taught his brother how to masterfully craft dirt piles, and how to tie a rock to a stick and call it a hoe. Alan figured it out slowly but surely, and soon, the two of them produced a farm that would feed the generations to come.

Mother soon began to show her age. Alan, with tears in his eyes, begged his mother to not die. "I do not know how," she responded wisely, "bring me a fountain of youth, or gift me with immortality." She passed with her twin sons, her precious daughter, and a grandchild named Abby surrounding her. All shed tears for their Eve that day, as her final words caught on her breath, "Love you, family."

The small family built themselves up together. With love, determination, and the will to keep on living, the handsome twin and Alan continued to farm for their clan. Dylan even attempted to show Abby how to farm, however, she soon passed away likely due to a disease known as incompetence. He didn't cry. Nobody did.

Ophelia gave birth to several children who were cursed with this disease, including one who was named after the better Uncle, Dylan. She passed away not long after the birth of Dylan (who also died of incompetence), leaving her only living daughter, Mary, to give the twins hope. They provided Mary and her children with nourishment, love, and humor. "Do not give our babies to the Others," Alan would jest, "the Ice People, the ones who raise the dead to fight alongside them!"

Dylan would just smile and shake his head, "he is losing his marbles, Mary, we are becoming old men." Mary just giggled with her newborn son in her arms. Alan and Dylan argued over what the boy's name should be. "Name it after the better uncle," suggested Dylan. The boy, riddled with the incompetence disease, was poorly named Dylan the Third. He died not much long after.

As the twins aged on, they encouraged the younger generation to learn to farm as well. With age, they got more delirious, and much more carefree. They had plenty of food, plenty of rocks, and surrounded by beautiful children from their niece. They got so delirious, that Dylan even picked up one of his great nephews, and named it for his twin. It's like he loved him or something. They died together at a ripe 60 years old. Dylan's final words were, "he is the worse brother," and Alan's had been, "make us proud."

Alan the Second lived to be 51 years old, a paragon of virtue unlike his namesake.

Us crazy uncles are watching down on you, Alpha family! Stay strong.