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Spoils of War 45: Pissing for Luck?

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As we neared the jostling Giant crowd, I was astonished to feel multiple streams of hot liquid spraying freely over my chest and legs. What was this? The Giant spectators were pissing on me! Not one, not two, but dozens of Giants had their fat cocks out, hosing their hot urine across my naked body!

What was this? Some tasteless last protest by Ngwydd’s angry supporters? The odd beginning of an assassination attempt before our reign had even begun? At the very least it seemed rather rude.

I looked wildly around only to see more Giants up ahead holding their cocks in readiness. Others jockeyed for position, hoping to get a good shot at me!

“They’re pissing all over me!,” I complained, trying to avoid the hot torrents of salty liquid streaming freely down my face and chest. Regal dignity, indeed!

“Don’t worry, little one – that’s just one of our harmless old Giant customs left over from Pagan times,” Gwynedd shouted over the noise of the crowd.

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