~ Ze Vay of ze Hun
(Translation: The Story of Borias) ~

by Lexxie


Disclaimers: The Great Borias (smirk) does not belong to me. If he did, I'd force him to get a haircut to get rid of those nasty extensions. Nope, I'm just borrowing him for my amusement, and for the amusement of anyone else reading this.

SEX/VIOLENCE: Uhh, no.

POTTY MOUTH: Uhh, yeah.

RATING: We'll just say PG-13.

FEEDBACK: I will answer that with this: mistiblu02@hotmail.com

NOTE/WARNING: I was feeling kinda silly when I wrote zis...I mean, this.


Hallo. (Translation: Greetings, fellow humanoids.)

I am called ze great Borias. Vell, akchtually, my vool name eez Johann Ziannovich Borias Voyekkratocawchinski. Eet eez a familee name. I am ze son of ze lejendaree Bob Voyekkratocawchinski, ze conqueror of...uh...a bunch of zose landz up north. So, in akchtualitee I should be called ze great Johann, or Mizter Voyekkratocawchinski, or Mizter V, if ju inseest on making sooch a beeg deel. But for zomme reezon, I am known onlee as ze great Borias. (Translation: I hate signing those forms where they ask you to please print your full name...there's never enough room.)

But, to hell wid zat. (Translation: Aw, screw it. I'm dead anyway.)

I vas bornn in zis teensy vittle village in...uh...zose landz up north. Ven I vas yoong, I spent my dayzz playgink wid my vittle doggy, JuJu, and planting flowvers in my vittle garden. (Translation: I lived in the back hills of Siberia...what else was I supposed to do?) I vas a veree happee child. (Translation: I held some very violent, but latent, tendencies, at a young age.)

But zen, I groow up. Von day, I jus groow tired of ze zimple life. I groow tired of my doggy, JuJu. I groow tired of my veree preetee flowvers. I groow tired of livingk in...uh...zose landz up north. I vas bored beeyond my vittle mind! (Translation: Siberia ain't the most happenin' place on earth.)

So von nite, a veree beeg band of marauders marched past my vittle village, and I kneww zen zat zis vas my chance to eckscape to newver and greener pastures. Zat veree same nite, I crept out of my howse and joined ze small armee. (Translation: I left home that night to travel with the circus.) Az ve left my vittle village, I reemember lookingk bakk jus vonce and saygingk, "Phooey to you, landz up north! Finally, zis iz 'Good-bye'! So ju can jus kiss my vucking azz!" (Translation: "Oh, fare thee well, Mother and Father and the people I love. I shall miss you so.")

Zis vas ze small, but veree signifikkant, beginningk to my life of jenerall badness. After a vhile, I challenged ze leeder of zis armee to a doowell to ze death. It vas a hard-fought battle, and ze blood floow at our everee svipe, but in ze end, I vas ze vinner. (Translation: We played rock, parchment, dagger, and I won. Sucker!)

Under my veree great leedersheep, ze armee groow to ovver a zousand men. Ve conquered evereetingk zat stood in our vay. Ze name of Borias vas known and feered throughout ze land. (Translation: I was so goood at being baaaaad.) But soon, ze boredom reetoorned. I vas vealthy, I vas handsome, and I vas veree intelligent, but ze fire had gone out wid a "Poof!" (Translation: What I really wanted to do was direct.)

Zen, von day, I met zis kreepilled voman. She vas dirtee as a hag, but her eyez ver byooteeful and heepnotyzed me. (Translation: Girlie was *hot*.) Ze voman vas veree powverfool, I could tell, and veree smart. I kneww zen zat I had to havve her.

Wid her at my side, ve travelled akross ze known vorld, zough she has ophten led us intoo deep poo doo. Von time, she eeven gott zis crazee ideea zat ve should conquer Ch'in. So I vent, deespite ze fact zat I had manee dowts. In fact, I vent along wid herr vild and crazee skeems most of ze time all bekauwse I looved herr. (Translation: She said she'd burn my extensions in my sleep if I didn't do as she said.)

Jes, jes I looved herr, eeven zough she treeted me like zheet. (Translation: I was underappreciated.) Vonce, she eeven deenownced my loove all bekauwse she vas beeing brainvashed by zis meestical Amazon vitch wid eyez like a rakkoon who zought zat she cood send peepol to ze spirit vorld by dringink cow blood. Zis voman vas veree misteeryus. (Translation: She was just a few french fries short of a Happy Meal, if you know what I mean.)

To herr, I vas a tool, not a leevingk, breethingk person. (Translation: What about *my* needs?) Eeven after she beecame pregnant wid owr son, she deenied looving me. But I knoow better. She did loove me, she vas jus playgink hard to get. (Translation: Denial is not just a river in Egypt.) So von nite, after a veree bad fite, I reetoorned to herr so zat we cood raise owr son avay from ze mess ve had made for owrselves. But zen, zis morron Daggnoon, or sometink like zat, stabbed me right ootside herr tent. (Translation: Probably yet *another* disgruntled ex-boyfriend of hers.) And zat vas ze end of my life.

So now I am dead. (Translation: So now I am dead.) Akchtually, zough, I do not reelee know vhere ecksactly I am rite now. (Translation: Heaven, Elysia, Hell, Tartarus, Purgatory, Karmic cycle...would someone please make up their mind?) I have notingk to do here ekcsept tink aboot ze life zat I left behind, vhich is pretee depressingk. But zough I am dead, I like to be opteemistik aboot zese tings. No von stays dead arrownd here for veree long, aneevay. (Translation: They'll have me playing a no-name extra any day now.)

ZE END



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