I thought my most ignoble death would remain being beaten to death with a bedpan. The world is often full of suprises though. Brimming with confidence in my new-found armor, I was attacked by a not-so-gentleman wielding a crutch. Boldy did I leap into the fray! Heavily injured, the rascal turns and flees. What is there to do but pursue! As I turn the corner into the hall, I see my quarry as encountered a dilemma. It seems the end of his crutch has caught upon a cart. In the face of the fearsome foe pursuing, he could not abandon his weapon but turning to fight was more than he could bear to face. Taking immediate advantage of this situation, I hastened to strike a blow. Between the weight of my swing and the constant pulling of my adversary, the cart itself gave way! Unprepared for this rather unusual circumstance, I was taken by suprise and knocked to the ground. At this point, the cart, determined not to be outdone in this match, proceded to run me over. My foe safely fled whilst I was thus engaged. After several minutes of intense struggle, it turns out the cart would be the winner of our wrestling match; and remains quite continent to maintain the pin until it feels good and ready to change its mind (which, being a cart, has given this foe unending patience).
The moral of this story? That is rather up to debate. Though it appears I will have time to comtemplate it.
The moral of this story? That is rather up to debate. Though it appears I will have time to comtemplate it.