They haven’t got nearly as many swords as I do. Just one

apiece, where I’ve got three. At best the two of them

could kill each other, the chumps. Huh, looks like

they’re talking. They’re shaking hands? Now the tall one

 

is taking a hammer and wailing on his sword! What?

Soon he’ll have zero swords! Now the short one holds

the mangled blade steady while the tall one bends it

to fit into a wooden frame…oh, no way. Did that bozo

 

just turn his sword into a PLOW? And now the short one

is holding his hands out in front of him, while the tall one nods…

and they’re snapping the other sword into pieces! Hah,

now NEITHER of them have swords! Now they’re joining

 

the broken chunks onto a plank of wood...the short one holds

the sorry hilts like mallets…he’s whacking away at the steel!

What awful music! But the tall one is laughing, and dancing!

The short one is laughing too, but still clanging on. Wow. It’s almost

too sad to mock. How daft of them to ruin their swords so.