Considering ways to kill 999 niggers so you can become aryan, you come upon an idea.
In your mind’s eye, you picture your kinsmen of Sotho slain by your hoof, their huts falling to ruin like the igloo does, when in Winter’s end, the blossoming daffodil heralds its inevitable doom.
It is a terrible picture, but also a tempting one. For you have a duty to your brothers, but would it not bring the Jarty more honor for one man to be Aryan, than for a village to achieve glory as niggers?
But, conflicted as you are, you have made a pact with Soot, and it is only just that you invite him for counsel. So, you use your Hyperborean power to call him hence.
A puff of ash appears, and from it emerges Soot. He looks at Thor angrily.
<Thor! What are you doing? This guy is on a mission for me, not for you! Quit distracting him!
<He is my adherent first, o grey one of the peaceful repose, not yours. If he wishes to do my bidding, it would be wise of you not to interfere.
<Your sheer nerve is incredible. You do know I’m the king of the gods, right? Is this the kind of respect I get? If I wasn’t so fair, I’d strike you were you stand.
And Thor’s heart was struck with sudden fear; and he floated away two paces, as if anticipating attack.
You weigh your options carefully. If you follow Soot, you will bring great wealth and glory to Lesotho, and your people will have infinite ‘p; If you follow Soot, you will become aryan, and travel to the fabled land of Nippon, where you hear that lolis are real, and you can groom as many as you want.
You can, of course, serve both, but in doing so you may risk Soot’s wrath.
What do you do?
