Pirates_Ghost

Ole staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking
> buddy, Swen. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Lena. He
> tiptoed quietly toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but
> misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the
> banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A
> whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially
> painful. Managing not to yell, Ole sprung up, pulled down his pants, and
> looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and
> bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began
> putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then
> hid the now almost empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
>
> In the morning, Ole woke up with searing pain in his head and butt and
> Lena staring at him from across the room. She said, "You were drunk
> again last night, weren't you Ole?"
>
> Ole said, "Why you say such a mean ting?"
>
> "Well," Lena said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the
> broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood
> trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly
> it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror."

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You can't wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you - Look, if I went 'round saying I was an Emperor, just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!