Tveir

[brothor]

Father went back to Norway for part of the summer and I bet none of you will BELIEVE what he brought back!

Weapons! Viking weapons! Also helmets! They are so beautifully made and terribly good for running into things with! He also brought back a hammer but


I can't lift it.

It's as if it's charmed to the ground. I've been trying for weeks to pick it up and I've got blisters on my fingers.


According to legend, one must be worthy to lift the hammer. Am I not worthy or something? How does one become worthy?

Comments

[arrogantalloy]

To you maybe.

[brothor]

I am done here.

[arrogantalloy]

Then why are you still commenting?

[brothor]

Go away.

[arrogantalloy]

Why? Am I doing anything wrong? Because it looks like I'm just writing pleasantly.

[brothor]

There is nothing pleasant about you.

[arrogantalloy]

Not even my body spray? Because I really think it's a really pleasant and well enticing.

[brothor]

I think you over use it. It burns my nostrils.

[arrogantalloy]

Your nose is just too delicate. Bruce and Natasha haven't said anything about it.

[brothor]

There is nothing delicate about me! They are simply too polite to tell you!!

[arrogantalloy]

Your temper seems pretty delicate at times. Wait, Natasha? Polite? She stopped being polite to me half way through her first year.

As for Bruce. Believe me, he'd tell me. Because he does have a sensitive nose.

[brothor]

If it were as delicate as you think it is, you would already be dead.

Perhaps Natasha thinks it is funny. Perhaps Bruce enjoys the stench.