"We must always come

first," he shouted
in the lashing voice of command.
"Every action in defense of the ancient
and venerable tribe-mind of our people
is bloodworthy,
unspeakably just,
and beyond the paltry glory of Olympus.
We are bound
by no simpering rule.
We are restrained by no female weakness.
Our survival and our prospering
must always be at the zenith of the sky.
In the name of what is right
(and what is right is us!) we
we must make the gut-slashing fury of our
noble hatred
more horrible
than any soul has ever borne witness to,
because the Tribe must live so that it might keep
its place in the beautiful celebration
of merciless,
face-burning,
jaw-smashing,
rib-crushing,
spine-cracking
life!"
And with that he turned the rack
tighter.
And we cheered.