As I rose from my mossy bed in my disgusting and grimy, secluded cave, I could faintly hear the rejoicing and praises of the Danes. Their songs of praise only brought up bitter memories of my shunning from their Father’s kingdom. As my appetite and hunger for revenge grew with every word sung, I stealthily set out to attack. I snuck through the dark, steamy marshes to the neighboring town of Herot. Once I arrived I saw the perfect feast. The smell of the Danes fresh blood increased my thirst for revenge. I created wonderful human filled revenge sandwiches. I used their rich blood as a delightful dipping sauce. As I feasted on Hrothgar’s good men of Herot, my satisfaction grew with every crunch of bone and burst of vein. No amount of loud shrieks or forceful blows could stop me on my destructive mission. I demolished their chances of survival. After I plowed through 30 men, I stopped and rested against an old tree. As I slept, I could not help but to dream of Herot’s beloved King’s reaction to my wild slaughtering. I also made sure my revengeful killing spree left an impact on the remaining residents of the town.