Bladder-Voiding Fear and the Threat of Viking Force

Trond Troll-Breath slammed his beer down on the table, bent close so that he came face-to-face with the stubborn child, and, with ale-tinged spittle flying, roared:

“You eat your slice of pizza now or so help me Odin I will jam it so far down your throat that my fist will be coming out your ass! You’ll be so tightly wrapped around my arm that I’ll be forced to wear you as padding against my shield the next time I go to battle! The last thing that you’ll ever hear will be the sound of my crazed screams for more slaughter as the battle-rage sweeps over me from where I stand in the shield wall, blocking the onslaught of thunderous blows that pulverize your dying body to a bloody pulp! I will fucking destroy you! Do you hear what I’m saying?! IF YOU DON’T EAT YOUR FUCKING PIZZA RIGHT THIS VERY INSTANT I WILL COMPLETELY FUCKING DESTROY YOU!”

This little encounter wouldn’t have been necessary had the parents themselves been competent in the rearing of their accidental progeny, but they weren’t, so Troll-Breath took matters into his own hands.

See, unlike all the prissy, wiser-than-thou types that are so abundant out there nowadays, Vikings such as Trond don’t rely on honey-coated, dumbed-down logic to persuade stubborn children to do things that they don’t want to do, such as eat a single piece of pizza for dinner* at a pizza parlor where I just coincidentally happened to be trying to enjoy my own slice, mourn the Bruins’ latest horrendous loss, and yearn for a restaurant environment free of undisciplined children and ineffective parents. No, Vikings such as Trond rely on pure, bladder-voiding fear and the very real threat of force.

And I commend that.

 

*Some children are so spoiled these days, aren’t they? Back in my day we tried to resist eating things like nasty meatloaf and broccoli for dinner, not pizza.

Heraldry

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