Once there was a legend, a Green Dream,
A man of swiftness who strode over the earth.
His boots lay speeding marks on the mud beneath.
Victory to him was minutes, or so it seemed.
Till one day in 2020, in came the Mods and Geosquare.
They tracked his movements and Speed Runs beyond compare,
They laid no stone unturned, no block untouched.
Found out did they, that his odds were impossibly rare.
The gears of their minds grinded on and on,
They explained the depths of this Black Swan:
Dream hadst got more pearls than any man,
And many more Blaze Rods in every run.
"A liar! A cheat! A fraud!" the Mods said.
When those words were spoken, the world hadst split.
For Dream had a Legion of Stannic Fans,
Whose heartbeats pulsed in the name of that man.
"Biased! Clout-chasing, wretched wretch!"
Said the Stannic Hordes to the Mods of Notch.
And Dream himself let out a reply,
"My odds are fine," and brought a Harvard grad.
But r/physicists came and said "Fake!
A man with no name, no face, no cred!
A fraud whose equations shown no make!"
For within the man's reasonings the math was wrong.
And then came the Speedrunning Master Karl Jobst.
He looked upon the imbroglio with a face without fear.
He utilized automatons, simulations of the Craft.
He had them try to replicate the odds of Dream.
Trillion times they tried, all hadst failed.
"It can only be said then," said Jobst,
"That Dream hath cheated, modified his game."
And in the face of truth, the Green Giant fell.