Pride

What would Dru do for a Klondike Bar?

I would easily go through the hubristical challenges of an ancient Grecian king in order to taste the sweet sweet inards of a Klondike bar, surrounded by the thin chocolate layer.

I approach a soothsayer... the soothsayer, blind by her own hand, knows of my future... knows of my past... knows what is to be, what is to not be... knows the lengths I would go for a Klondike bar. She then tells me that I will receive this klondike bar in twenty years. But not until I kill my father.

Pah! I say. I will not kill my father for a Klondike bar...

Oh yes you will, she says.

Never! Say I. So I board a ship, never to return. Until 15 years later. And I do so not by accident, I do so not by fate, I do so by my own volition. Because unlike Oedipus I am willing to murder my father, marry my mother and speak in verse to a Grecian Chorus. But I do this for a Klondike Bar.

I return, immediately find my father... and murder him with a rad discus that I bought. I find my mother, and I marry her, only to become King of Greece. I let no one in on the secret that I know about all of this. Soon it is revealed to me slowly, methodically, I make a big show about it... getting angry at myself. Finally when the time is right I burst into the chamber and I put my eyes out with stakes. When I reemerge the town is horrified. They offer me soothing ice, I refuse, my pain is their pain. Then they offer me a Klondike bar to put on my face and stop the swelling. I say yes, but eat the Klondike bar and smile at the people.

I have tricked them.

I have gotten a klondike bar.

I am Hubris.