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Mafia 19. Trojan War.

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#912
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Morning
Look at how sharp the butthurt is on the monitor! It's almost twisted. Strange – the anus should be quite developed, just like any other democrat. In powerless rage, from his command post located near the latrine, he gazes at the mightily towering Troy, which even the siege machines surrounding it have not deprived of its beauty and grandeur.
Just as the stones of the siege engines shatter into dust against its fortified walls, so too will the strong anuses of the proud Trojans not accept the limp, short-barreled spears of the Greeks. And it was written by the prophet in the Book that the broken glasses of the Greeks will each accept a two-and-a-half-meter-long Trojan pike.
However, although it already seemed that everything was over, that I was to be eaten alive by this huge, terrible, stinking beast breaking through the breach in the city wall, something unexpected happened. The troll suddenly froze in the middle of the opening, let out a terrible roar, and began to pound the wall with its fists. Being unable to move either forward or backward, it could only scream in powerless rage, unable to reach its victims. The troll was too fat...