I knew an Etruscan soldier, took three spears to the head, two in the chest, and one right in the rear-end.
This was before fancy head scans and Doctors without leaches. Rest, water, and wine, four weeks later this guy was fine. An inventive fellow, he developed a predilection for cooking calico kittens and wearing their skins as a hat to cover the bald spot and scar thereafter considering himself charmed and untouchable.
He died of an ugly bout of dysentery a couple years after. Worked his way up and is now in charge of all feline residents here in Hell. Might surprise some, how many cats end up here.
And yes, we still let him wear the cats as hats, long as he keeps cleaning the endless litter boxes of Hell.
Keep On Chemtrailing,
The Boss
