Guest Columnist
"SkullSplitter"
That's right kiddies - the Faceless Assassin is on a top-secret assignment. It's high time the SkullSplitter shared his wisdom with the troubled elements of today's society. After SINGLE-HANDEDLY conquering what is now known as Europe more than 5,000 years ago, the SkullSplitter was granted immortality (hey - that's what guys like this EARN). He's managed to drag himself away from his drinking duties at "The 'Ol Warshack" (a pub in Scotland that only serves SkullSplitter Ale) to fill in for Tango while he's away.
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck chucked wood?
-Curious
Party
-Athens, GA
Genghis Khan once asked me how much water a man could carry if a man was only to carry water. I laughed heartily, took of his women and pillaged his camp. When Genghis died at the hand of my drunken sword in 1227, it was I who laughed again. Woodchucks do not chuck wood. Do not ask again.
Does the Superbeast exist? My dad says no, but my mom says yes. If so, who is this Superbeast? Is he a friend of Santa Claus?
-Jerry Dillon, Age 11
-Miami, FL
Your mother has been listening to too much Rob Zombie. If there ever was a Superbeast, it is I. I am no friend of Santa Claus. After slaughtering his elves in a violent, bloody melee that lasted 10 minutes, I had to put him down. His refusal to offer his sled (in July, for chrissakes!) cost him his hefty belly, which spilled like a bowl full of jelly once it met my blade.
You don't scare me. I'm in the Fencing Club at Princeton University and I've already won three National Championships, all at the age of 20! The feeble skills of a no-brained Viking (or whatever you are) are no match in a duel with a professional swordsman like myself. I challenge you to a duel with sabers, my archaic friend. It's high time that someone with some skill put you in your place.
-Not Afraid
-Princeton University
My sword is my wife. My sword is my life. Thrust. Withdraw. Thrust. Withdraw. I do not parry. I attack. I have retrieved my 55-pound, five-foot-long War Hammer from the Bounty Chest that I looted from King Louis the XIV. [Ed. note - Louis the XIV reigned in France and lived from 1638-1715. He was also known as the Sun King]. The War Hammer is weary from many years of neglect. I am not. I know not of a Princeton University. You must meet me at "The 'Ol Warshack" in Mother Scotland, on the Isle of Lewis in the town of Rodel. I await your arrival. I have time.
"Gerald" and I have been engaged for five years now and we've dated for more than ten. We live together in my house and I don't ask Gerald for any rent, although he does help out with the phone bill every so often. Whenever I bring up the pending marriage, he mocks me and calls me a "Gold Digger." Gerald delivers pizzas part-time, so I'm not sure where he gets this notion of 'gold-digging.' All of my friends and family say that I should cut this freeloader loose and get on with my life. But I am still very much in love with him. This conflict inside me is ripping me apart! Should I give him an ultimatum?
-Still in Love
-Red Seal, OR
Dear Gold Digger:
You want conflict? Try battling the Huns and the Moors at the SAME TIME! [Ed. Note: the Huns, including the famed Attila The Hun, were present and active 300 years before the Moors had a skirmish with anyone in particular.] [SkullSplitter Note: Were YOU there Ed.? I don't THINK SO.] A whack-whack HERE and a whack-whack THERE, everywhere a WHACK-WHACK! Skullsplitting is a science, concubine. It requires acute precision and deftness in delivery. An eight- foot Long Sword is the only "mediator" you need to help you through this difficult time. Drink sacks full of SkullSplitter Ale and then drive your point home.