ohyesrobot.ordoliberal.com

2006-08-25

Original: 2006-08-25 on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal

Transcript

A handwritten letter on parchment, written in red (blood-colored) ink:

"I apologize in advance for the latter portion of this note. My three year old got these markers, and we were out of paper... Anyway-

Baron Destructicus -

I write this in my own blood, for it is the same blood spilt by your barbarian soldiers under last night's moon.

Seven hundred of ours fell in the slaughter, mostly women and children.

Let this be your notice, Baron: we will not die in silence, not before our lands are watered with your blood, and our rivers run overflowing with your dead.

May all that you love perish in agony."

Below the signature, drawn in crayon by a small child in multiple colors: scribbled hearts, x's and o's, stars, a smiley face, and the wobbly words "i lov u" and what appears to be "yes."

Votey:
A horned Viking/barbarian figure (the Baron) reads the note. In a speech bubble above his head, in childlike handwriting, he says: "Now you fwiends!"

Alt text

A handwritten letter on parchment, written in red blood-colored ink. It opens: 'I apologize in advance for the latter portion of this note. My three year old got these markers, and we were out of paper... Anyway-' It is addressed to 'Baron Destructicus' and is a furious declaration of war: the writer says they write in their own blood, that the Baron's barbarian soldiers slaughtered seven hundred of their people last night, mostly women and children, and vows revenge until their lands are watered with the Baron's blood and rivers run overflowing with his dead, ending 'May all that you love perish in agony.' But beneath the menacing letter, a small child has scrawled cheerful crayon doodles in many colors: hearts, x's and o's, stars, a smiley face, and the words 'i lov u'. Votey: A horned Viking-helmeted barbarian figure, presumably the Baron, reads the note, and in childlike wobbly handwriting in a speech bubble says, 'Now you fwiends!' He has read only the child's sweet doodles, not the death threat.

Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.