Greetings Spunlings! Uncle Spun here, I've just taken a wander down into engineering to see what all the groaning of pipes and clanking of clanky things is about, and bless my cotton socks, it turns out that this great clattering cacophony is not actually for nothing!
Heavens above, I had given up all hope of anything constructive ever actually emerging from this creaking engine since the mysterious disappearance of our great lady the Spun Queen, but I digress. Yes. This scrotty little engineering spunner tells me that stage two of the great Spun Pipeline is complete. I'd let him speak for himself, but I fear you would not understand his inchoate ramblings, so I shall paraphrase as best I can.
Apparently they have sunk a bore hole into the heart of the Spun! On the sunny side this has caused the wonderful Spun Crown to manifest above the striped pipe's gaping maw. It floats there teasing and calling out like a two bit hussy to any who would lay claim to the title of Spun King. But be warned, I stretch not my metaphor when I say that the Spun Crown is a capricious thing and will leap to any suitor bearing more Spun. Note, she does not like the storm so much; the advent of inclement weather will cause her to shrivel and retreat until the fulsome blossoming of the Spun Harvest.
On the not so sunny side, the pipe has also released an entity which, I if my understanding of northern Spunnerese does not fail me, is known as 'The Spun Hopper'. It is a simple thing, perhaps to be pitied in its monotonous trajectory, but to be avoided nonetheless. It has a thirst for spun and will take whatever it can get. That's you, by the way. What it can get I mean.
I suspect that all of this is as clear to you as a Spun Doctor's prescription, but it is time for me to retire to the drawing room and think happy thoughts of the days when our glorious majesty was here to guide us to greater things. I bid you, have a Spun day.