You throw grate a birthday party with the frilliest fucking streamers and big fucking pictures of dinosaurs and a clown that you let the kids beat with sticks and all his little friends from the neighborhood. You don't even threaten them with violence or eating their parents if they don't come. Nope. You let this child rule as he sees fit.
Grate hosts the party with lackadaisical ease, being friendly yet aloof, but not going either into benevolent ruler or malevolent monarch mode. All this middle ground, all this freaking normalcy, it makes your blood....tepid and syrupy. Where is the sanguinary madness? Where is the cult of grate! The boy glows with moonlight and ivy springs up where his barefeet touch the earth. Surely he could rule these children, these larva of men!
Bah. BAH!
As you usher the children out, Grate suddenly becomes enraged and begins throwing a temper tantrum! HE SWELLS TO BE 8 FEET TALL AND LOADED WITH MORE MUSCLE THEN A TRAIN CAR FULL OF ANABOLIC STEROID ENTHUSIASTS. HE BEGINS PUNCHING THINGS INTO THE IONOSPHERE AND KICKING HOUSES IN HALF!
FIGHT MODE! DOOOOO DOOOO DOOOO DOOOO DAAAAH DOOO DAAAHH DOOOOOOO DEE DEE DEE DOOO DAH DOOO DEE DEE DEE DOOOOO!
[4]
You dodge through his blows with a look of utter contempt and disgust and then flick him in the nose! He shrinks back down and starts crying. You give him his teddy bear and some warm chloroform to help him fall asleep.
Dappertude:3
Cynicismish:5
Businessness:-1
Determinational:2
Survivalous: 3
Sporties:0
Schooliouses:9