Words.

I'm currently losing to a real life girl, online, at Scrabble.
This reminds me very much of how I once saved Wales from the Vikings at Agincourt. It was 2004 and I was in Agincourt shopping centre, Cardiff. Boy Handsome was with me and we were there to watch football. I remember it well. It was raining and I was in a pair of Reebok pumps. At one point the sun broke through the clouds for twenty seconds and shone directly on me. As is life, I was besieged by ugly people wanting my autograph. I've taken to just signing my initials these days as I have to preserve my wrists for punching fatties and carrying the fatapult (TM) about the local communities.
This bearded gentleman approached with a hat on. The hat had horns on. I've rarely held a face of such glee. Anyway, he started rambling on at me like a drunk. Naturally, my first instinct was to assume he was Scottish, but it turned out he came from Sweden. You know, Sweden. Pornography and Abba. Words were exchanged and I finally beat him up. A crushing loss for the Vikings. At Agincourt. Gaggles of women in bikinis ran towards us as the sun came back out. The music of Weezer played in the background, the place went dark as the credits started to scrawl up the screen. Producer, GMoS. No Vikings hurt during filming. No Welshmen used as extras.

If one of you fatties copies my movie I'll kick your fucking head in.