Coat of arms

When people greet me they usually say: “What’s up, dude?”, “Hi, punk” or in exceptional cases “ Oh, my God, nice to see you, low motherfucker”. I was never daunted by this, let say, unconventional manners, I even used to call it warm relations when we were chatting this way among friends. But not now!

Henry VIII - six marriages. Two of his wives were executed for infidelity and half of the England population into the bargain. What a sweet heart!
The St. Bartholomew's Day massacre, instigated by Catherine de Medici. Whoa! Cruel by nature or just a hard menopause?
And these darlings: blood countess Elizabeth Bathory and our lovely Vlad III Prince of Wallachia well known as Dracula? I’m sure they still haunt you in your nightmares.

And now the big question: did anyone ever greet theme as low motherfuckers though they undoubtedly deserved it? I think no. So why such a noble person like me is treated this way?

As from that day call me: His Imperial Highness Aaron Schnorbitz radiant sovereign of souls and demons. And, by the way, it’ s my coat of arms.

Aaron Schnorbitz, Reflections on life, 2009, Hangman publications Ltd.