Has there ever been a manlier name in the history of manliness than that which oozes from each syllable of the name Tore Vikingstad? Did you have to look up where Mr. Vikingstad was from or did you just know that he was from Norway because he couldn’t possibly be something like, I don’t know, French? Is it even a question as to whether or not Mr. Vikingstad is in fact the Ruler of the Known Universe because every time you say his name the syllables leap from your tounge and head straight to Colorado to bitch slap Paul Stastny? Has there even been another man who could create fear in an enemy with only his name?
*sound of a record stopping*
PAUL STASTNY: WHO IS THIS WHO QUESTIONS THE AWESOME POWERS OF STASTNY??? I ASK THEE TO STEP FORWARD AND DISPLAY OR NOT DISPLAY THEIR COURAGE.
Me: Sorry, Paul. You’ve been replaced.
PAUL STASTNY: STASTNY DOES NOT GET REPLACED. IT IS I WHO DOES THE REPLACING. UNLESS IT IS THE PAPER OF TOILET THAT NEEDS REPLACING. WE HAVE A MAID FOR THAT.
Me: No, really. Tore’s pretty much got you here.
PAUL STASTNY: SIMPLE HUMAN. JUST BECAUSE YOUR BRAIN CANNOT COMPREH…
Tore Vikingstad (interrupts): Oh, Stastny. How you amuse me.
PAUL STASTNY: TORE! I, UH, BUDDY… OLD PAL. HOW, UH… WHAT’S WITH YOUR TEXT?
T-Stad: I think the real question is what is with your text.
PAUL STASTNY: COOL, COOL. HOW’S THE FAMILY? WIFE AND KIDS?
T-Stad: Please, I’m done with the pointless small talk with you. Plus you’re in my wife’s pilates class every Sunday. You can ask her yourself. Now either get out of here or I will use your face as a hockey puck.
PAUL STASTNY: **RUNS OFF**