The weekend is upon us and to celebrate, tonight I am going to cook up some Stromboli, have two to twenty-four Torpedos and (for some unknown reason) listen to some big sounding prog-metal about heads on bloody spears, holy nectar flowing from celestial teats and stuff like that. Now what did I do with my mace and Viking helmet?…
Can’t you see what you have wrought here?
A curse on you and all your kin
Bloody battles will be fought here
Await your doom at empire’s end
May the rivers rush to drown you
May the earth swallow your hosts
May the winter’s wolves surround you
And rip the life from your throats
Just sayin.’