A Norse, A Norse, my Kingdom for a Norse.
From time-to-time Club Derrig plays host to visiting sorts from across the seas and beyond thereof who wish to learn the whys, wherefores, and whatnots of the Derrig ways.
My favourites have always been the Scandinavians, with their quick way with a merry quip, and their skills at plundering and pillagery, although these are rarely practised now as they are a peaceful lot these days what with their free and easy way with "liberal" doings.
Ah, the Swedes! The Danes! The Norwayans! Such romantic images are conjured up unto me in my head - visions of of great-muscled, horny-hatted types heaving to and fro on oars on the open seas, in magnificently-lengthy papyrus boats, setting out all unbeknownst to find Amerigo Vespucci, the inventor of the motorbike.
I share so much of their very being: the fair skin, the blonde-like hair, the rough and rugged life, the raw vigour for the conquering and subjugation of the weak; a determination to rule the seas and all the lands; taking laydeez as I come up on them for swift, ruthless, and crude mating arrangements; laughing heartily at crude, manly jokes with my comrades.
Dirk Douglas - now that's a man for you. A right bodice-ripper if ever there was one, and with a glorious set of pearly teeth and a stirring theme tune. That mesmeric tune. Duh-duh-duh-der-der-der! So mesmeric. Mesmeric in maxima excelsis. Duh-duh-duh-der-der-der.
I swig from great flagons of foaming ale! I indulge in crazed swordplay and insane feats with dangerous wild animals!
I roam the world taking what I want! When I want! However I want!
Others scatter in fear of my mighty lusts and fearsome ease to anger!
I am Derrig, Overlord of the Universe! Destroyer of Worlds! I am run amok! Valhallah I am coming!
And then "Click" and I'm back in the room.
Self-hypnosis, people - I'm telling you: it's a weapon in the wrong hands.
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