So one morning, as I was staring blearily at my laptop screen, sipping tea, and trying to wrap my head around the morning’s critique, I heard Kelly chortling, and she told me that she’d just taken the What Middle-Earth Race Do You Belong To? quiz over on HelloQuizzy. Turns out she’s an Elf.
So I took the quiz, and lo! I’m an Elf as well. I could live with that— in fact, as an Elf, I could live forever— but when I examined the stats I found out I scored a zero on size and strength. Since I’m over six feet, over 200 pounds, have a black belt, and work out a lot, I thought this was probably an error. But then, when all’s said and done, I’d rather be immortal than the Incredible Hulk, so there you go.
Then because, y’know, work continued to impend, I went on to take the Would You Have Been a Nazi test, because it’s one of those questions that always lurks in the back of the brain. Sure, it’s easy being for democracy and freedom living as I do in the 21st Century USA . . . but had I grown up in 1920s Munich, would I have been so attached to Enlightenment ideas of liberty, or would I have gone head-over-heels for the new, shiny, so-very-Twentieth Century Fuhrer?
The quiz reassured me that, while my patriotism approaches dangerous levels, I would nevertheless have been a leader of the anti-Nazi resistance. What a relief!
Of course this means that, had I actually been living in Fascist Germany, Himmler and his minions would have probably turned me into dog chow. But I would have been on dog chow the right side!
(Though, however you look at it, it’s difficult to picture someone like me being produced by the Germany of the period.)
Now hooked— and my actual work still pending— I went on to the What Greek God are You test. Turns out I’m Dionysus!
No complaints here! Though I confess there may be something a little wrong with my godlike powers— while it’s true I like having a good time, I seem a little lacking in the driving-hordes-of-women-into-an-erotic-frenzy-all-at-once department.
I’ll have to work on that.
And then, because I still needed to get the critiques done, I went on to the What’s Your Signature Weapon test, and discovered that what I really need is a Desert Eagle, the most powerful production handgun available today. As a guy who spends much of his time working out with swords and big sticks, I found this a surprise. Though when all’s said and done, I’d rather shoot the bad guys from a safe distance, so there you go.
After contemplating, then rejecting, the idea of doing my critiques with a .44, I finally returned to the work I was supposed to be doing.
But let’s sum up. I’m an anti-Nazi party god with pointy ears, and when Fascists show up to spoil the fun— which they do, rather— I send them to their cold Nordic hell with my .44 magnum!
Or— when I finally fix that glitch in my powers— I inspire hordes of women to tear them to bits with their bare hands. Which is fun, too!
So how do you waste time when you’ve got a job to do?
I AM A GREEK GOD!!!
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Well, I just wasted fifteen minutes finding out I was Athena instead of writing my first story for Clarion! 🙂
That’s the spirit, Monica! Delay writing as long as possible!
I think you’ve done fairly well with driving women into erotic frenzies!
Walter and his Witches
I’m Hephaestus, which is appropriate given my profession. But it means that I’ll be lonely for a long time, then when I finally find a beautiful girl who loves me she’ll just cheat on me.
You did the link wrong for the “signature weapon”; it should be “the-whats-your-signature-weapon-test”. And I got a submachine gun.
What a relief. When I read the post title I thought it meant you were doing Leda and the Swan role play.
When the hordes of women show up, would you have them do something about the sink full of dirty dishes before I come home?
Love,
Yr. wife
…And what were the Maenads?
Chopped Liver?!
Yeah, yeah, it’s not *erotic* frenzy, but you can’t deny it was FRENZY.
The biggest problem, though is that the Maenads were Mean Drunks. You just wouldn’t want to party with those babes. Trust me, Bro.
This is like a surrealist version of clue. “Hephaestus the swine, in the Shire, with a sniper rifle”
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