“What the Thor!?” Bergen says almost dropping the Guinness in his hand. “I’ve been reduced to a single category!?” What in Hel’s throne has she been doing to the place in my absence!? That bitch!” Bergen continues to grumble as he kicks some loose papers scattered about in Angela’s brain.
“She knocks me out cold with a pen and a concoction and she trashes the place. Oh, this ends now.” The Nord Lord chugs back the last of the Guinness. The delightful *clink clink* amuses him as the bullet thing inside the glass gently sounds the final notes of a dirge. Tossing the empty bottle aside, Bergen unsheathes his great sword and poises for battle. The red fires of Seidr glow from within the wide black blade.
“The author is crafty,” he whispers. “But so am I.”
He flattens his broad back against the wall of Angela’s mind and peers through the eyes of the Author. “Now then… To the blog!”
TO BE CONTINUED… SOON