I cut the man to ribbons, and do it without a single thought crossing my mind, just urges.What happens next is a blur. Slash, stab, thrust. Hours go b..., and though I instinctively manage to block everything that comes at me, I am weakened with every man I kill.As the battle winds down, I finally have time to look around. The field is littered with bodies. Few are left standing. As I finish off one last soldier, I drop my helmet and suck in the cold air, that reeks of blood and sweat. Suddenly. A ratty, battered, fugly, expensive jug: my very first antique. I picked it up and turned it over and examined the bottom. There were words etched there, probably some sort of hallmark, and I rubbed the warm metal to remove the grime and held it up to the light to read the fine print. Made in China. And at that moment it happened. The jug shook violently in my hand and became instantly hot to the touch. I dropped it like a hot potato and stared with eyes like Rachel’s tits (round and bulging). More

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