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Date Posted: 11:55:20 04/15/03 Tue
Author: Fire Warrior II/Steve
Subject: lol, found this on the fault, its find of funny

If your a Wheel of Time fan this is a good little read lol. I cant take credit for it but i thought i'd post it for a few others to get a laugh at.

Perrin Aybara sat atop his horse, Stayer, and looked down at the
wreckage of the Shaido camp. Weariness sagged his shoulders. The
battle had been as fierce as battles with Aiel were. The Red Eagle
would be long recovering. A smile rose to his face as Faile stepped out
of a tent, a hint of uncertainty on her own. She began to return his
smile, then saw his companion. Her stare was colder than winter's
heart.

Falling more than dismounting, Perrin found himself on the ground
hurrying to his wife. His keen sense of smell brought cold rage, with a
prickly tang of jealousy, with just a dash -- a pinch, really -- of
hunger. Light, thought Perrin, what do I have to do?

His head rang from the slap he'd not seen coming. "You needn't think
I'm going to thank you, blacksmith! I can take care of myself!" She
shrieked at him for a few more moments, slapped him twice again, then
brandished one of her daggers at him.

"You know, Faile...I lost a hundred men today trying to rescue you.
Good men, all, and worth more than we can spare. And I did it all just
to be close to you again. Close enough to" -- and with all his
blacksmith's strength, Perrin punched her fuckin' lights out. Bitch
went down like a sack of peas, if a sack of peas ever got beat down.
While the good mood was on him, he whirled about and walked back to his
horse. Berelain sur Paendraeg, First of Mayene, gasped down at him from
her own mount. Somehow, she could make even a gasp weaken a man's
knees. Silently, Perrin reached up and pulled her and her useless
big-tits off the horse. Teeth flew as the rage of thousands of pages of
sissy were turned into the right cross he'd so long dreamt of.

"Why not?" thought Perrin. He stalked back to Morgase's horse and drew
her to the ground. "You've never done anything to me, Morgase, but like
everyone else I am sick to fucking death of your shit." The axe whirled
and her head flew through the air, landing in Tallanvor's lap.

"Mount up, men. We're somewhere in western Ghealdan and I mean to teach
a little respect to every lippy broad we run into between here and the
Spine. Alliandre, keep yer cockholster shut and we'll have no trouble."

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