Damn Reincarnation

Chapter 96: The Dream (1)

One could never predict what would happen in the forest at night.
Even a month after they had first entered Samar, Eugene and Kristina still took turns standing guard every night.

Narissa had now been added to the initially two-man party.
The elf’s sensitive hearing was certainly enough to keep a close watch on their surroundings, but as Narissa lacked the strength needed to protect herself if it came to an emergency, they couldn’t allow her to stand guard all by herself.

As such, tonight as well, Eugene and Kristina were still the only ones taking turns to stand guard.

He didn’t know how Kristina might be taking his actions, but Eugene still chose to show respect and consideration to Kristina in his own way.
Generally speaking, the first and the last watches of the night were the most convenient.
So every day, Eugene gave up the first and last watches to Kristina, and took on the most difficult watch in the middle of the night.

A small voice suddenly called out his name, “Sir Eugene.”

That alone was enough to make Eugene’s eyes snap open.
He then easily got up from his sleeping spot without showing any signs of fatigue.
Kristina was crouching down just outside the entrance to his erected tent.

“Any report to make?” Eugene checked.

Kristina shook her head.
“Nothing happened.”

Monsters roamed this forest at night.
Under the usual circumstances, the camp should have already received several attacks from these monsters, but Kristina’s barrier was able to hide their camp from the monsters’ perception.

That said, they couldn’t just blindly trust the barrier and not stand guard.
While Eugene was rather unreliable in other matters, when it came to things like this, he was always thorough.
This was because, during his time wandering around as a mercenary, there were more than a few times where he had ended up in danger when some foolish mercenaries he was working with had let their guard down while on the night watch.

“Don’t you feel tired? After all, you were quite active today.
I’m not feeling that worn-out, so why don’t you just sleep in for today?” Kristina offered.

It seemed that Kristina was showing such consideration because he had been forced to deal with the warriors of the Garung tribe earlier today.
Eugene just smirked in the face of Kiristina’s concern.

“In the first place, I didn’t even get enough exercise to wear me out,” Eugene reassured her.
“I’ll be sure to wake you up in five hours, so don’t worry about it and get some rest.”

Kristina didn’t argue any further and just nodded.
When she had yet to become as familiar with Eugene as she was now, there had been several times where Kristina continued arguing with Eugene over similar matters.

But by now, she had learned better.
When it came to matters such as these, Eugene would always refuse to back down.
It wasn’t that Eugene was ignoring the consideration that others showed him, but it was just that he was extremely strict with the standards that he had set for himself.

“…Okay.
Well then, I’ll be counting on you,” Kristina said with a bow of her head as she withdrew from the entrance to his tent.

After roughly grooming his bedhead with only his hands, Eugene left his tent.
It had been a good idea on his part to prepare several tents.
After checking that Kristina had entered her own tent to rest, Eugene took a seat in front of the campfire.
Narissa was sleeping in one of his spare tents, which had been set up on the other side of the campfire.

“…Ahem.” Eugene let out a cough as he flipped open his cloak and pulled out a book.

The book was a magical textbook that he had already read several times now.
He had received this magical textbook from Lovellian on the day he left Aroth.

‘I should have sent a letter to Teacher Lovellian when I had the chance,’ Eugene regretted.

In his heart, he sincerely respected Lovellian as his teacher.

The fact that Lovellian was older than him, even when he added the age of his previous life as Hamel to his current years, only deepened his respect.
For Eugene, this was a very important reason for why he should respect Lovellian.

 

Quite some time had passed since he started reading.
The forest at night was far from quiet.
The sounds of insects chirping were very loud, and each time the wind blew, the thick branches of the trees shook against each other.
He could even hear the sounds of monsters from just a short distance away.

“…Ahem.” Eugene coughed again.

Ever since their first day camping in these woods, Kristina had revealed herself to be a deep sleeper.
Today proved to be another example of the same pattern.
Kristina had fallen asleep as soon as she had turned in for the night and only the sounds of calm breathing could be heard from her tent.

Eugene let out a sigh and folded his book closed.
“…Is there something you want from me?”

These words weren’t addressed to Kristina, who was already fast asleep.
The tent on the opposite side of the campfire shook slightly before the flap at the entrance slowly rose.

Narissa peeked out of the tent.
“Um, that’s… I-I’m sorry….”

“I told you to stop saying you’re sorry,” Eugene reminded her.

Narissa’s shoulders drooped at this response.
Eugene calmly pushed some more firewood onto the campfire.

“Is it because the forest is too noisy?” Eugene asked.
“Or is it because, after going through so many things today, you’re so afraid that you can’t get any sleep?”

“…,” Narissa stayed silent.

“Well, let me just say this, as I’m afraid that you might be having some strange concerns.
I have no intention of abandoning you while you’re asleep.
It’s not like I’m taking care of you solely out of my own good will.
I’m protecting you because I need you for something,” Eugene persuaded her.

“…I-if that’s the case then… like I thought…,” Narissa’s eyes wavered as she muttered to herself.
After a few moments of hesitation, she suddenly nodded as if she had come to some kind of decision.
“…I-I don’t mind if it’s with you, Sir Eugene.”

“What?” Eugene grunted.

“I’ve been expecting you to make such a request and I’ve prepared myself for it.” Narissa suddenly blushed and stammered, “Ah, no, wait.
Rather than expecting, it’s more like I thought that something like this… well, it’s not like it can be avoided, so… instead of going to sleep I’ve been waiting for you to—”

Eugene interrupted her.
“Hey now, hold on a moment, I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.
You’ve been expecting something? Something that can’t be avoided? So you were waiting? For me? Waiting for what exactly?”

“…Well… I do have a lot of scars on my body, and with my missing leg as a flaw… I might not be able to satisfy your standards, Sir Eugene,” Narissa admitted in a depressed tone.

“Why would having scars on your body mean that you wouldn’t be able to satisfy my standards…?” Eugene stiffly asked, his cheeks twitching with suppressed outrage.

Narissa gasped and started to shake, then after taking a few deep breaths, she hesitantly asked, “…Could it be that you prefer a body with a lot of scars, Sir Eugene…?”

Eugene wasn’t an idiot.
He could guess what kind of scenario Narissa had envisioned, and what she had been expecting of him.
Having lived as a slave, she had definitely gone through many difficult situations, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t understand why she would have come up with such an idea, but Eugene was still left feeling extremely upset.

“Hey.
I have no plans on crawling into your tent, and I have no intention of getting you to repay your debt to me with your body,” Eugene clearly stated.

“…Huh…?” Narissa uttered, gobsmacked.

“Just what kind of person do you see me as? Geez, a kid like you really dares to say just about anything, huh,” Eugene scoffed.

At these words, Narissa’s jaw dropped open.
Had he actually called her ‘a kid like you’? Narissa was a hundred thirty years old!

“Of course I’m aware that you have lived a longer life than me, but if we convert your age into human years, you’re still just thirteen years old,” Eugene insisted.

Ah… yes…,” Narissa muttered as she stared at Eugene for a few moments, then she straightened her posture and bowed her head to him.
“…I’m really… truly grateful to you, Sir Eugene.”

“I told you that there’s nothing to be thankful for.
How many times must I tell you that I’m just taking you with me because there’s something that I need from you? Eugene asked.

“…You’re talking about the Guardian of the elven village, right? I-if I do manage to meet with the Guardian, I’ll make sure to tell them that I’ve been receiving great kindness from you, Sir Eugene,” Narissa promised.

“Of course you should make sure to tell them that.
Although I might know who that Guardian bastard is, if that bastard tries to turn me away because I’m a human, you’ll have a very important role to play.
You get what I’m saying, right? That means that you need to keep him from escaping even if you have to throw yourself at his feet,” after saying this, Eugene opened up his magical textbook once more.

Even as Eugene continued to ignore her, Narissa kept looking at Eugene with a gaze filled with admiration for his righteous words and deeds.

‘With a handsome face like mine, it’s a lot easier to charm these elves,’ Eugene mused.

Strictly speaking, he wasn’t really trying to charm her, but Eugene felt that the result was still somewhere along those lines.

The night continued to pass.
After five hours had flown by, Eugene swapped shifts with Kristina and crawled back into his own tent.
Although he didn’t really feel the need to rest, Eugene still closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Even if you didn’t need to take a break just then, you should still rest when you can and catch some sleep if you have the chance.

Eugene was familiar with these habits from his previous life.

* * *

It had been a while since he last had a dream.

Usually, he didn’t really have clear dreams.
Whenever he went to sleep, he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber that still allowed him to immediately wake up when he needed to.

Dreams just left the mind feeling more tired than when they started.
For that reason, Eugene didn’t really enjoy the act of dreaming.

Whether they were happy, sad, or just ordinary dreams about everyday life, dreams weren’t reality.
Eugene did not know why people dreamed, but what he did know for a fact was that dreams couldn’t take the place of his reality.

In his previous life, after defeating the Demon King of Fury, their journey to fight the Demon King of Incarceration had been one long nightmare.
After all, their target was the second-ranked of all Demon Kings.
Like his ranking suggested, the Demon King of Incarceration had both powerful subordinates and large armies under his command.

One of these was the Queen of the Night Demons, Noir Giabella.

Strictly speaking, she wasn’t truly subordinate to the Demon King of Incarceration.
Although she hadn’t yet reached the extent to where she could be called a Demon King, even back then, Noir Giabella was a powerful demonfolk ‘queen’ who had vast numbers of Night Demons serving her.

During their journey to reach the Demon King of Incarceration, Noir Giabella had repeatedly attacked Hamel and his companions.
She was hellishly tenacious, constantly appearing in their dreams rather than confronting them in reality, trying to break the spirits of Hamel and his comrades.

Thanks to these experiences, Eugene was wary of dreams, hated nightmares, and truly loathed all Night Demons.
Noir Giabella’s attacks had tormented their party to the point where their pain was comparable to all that they had suffered while clashing with the Demon Kings of Carnage, Cruelty, and Fury; and in some ways, dealing with her was even more terrible than fighting against a Demon King.

‘…This is….’ Eugene realized that he was feeling a strong sense of alienation from his current dream.

This had to be some kind of lucid dream, as Eugene was fully aware that he was currently in the middle of a dream.
However even though he could recognize the fact that he was currently dreaming, Eugene wasn’t able to use his will to exert any control over the dream.
Caught in this dream, unable to effect any changes, Eugene was just left standing there aimlessly.

‘…Could this be an attack of a Night Demon?’ Eugene suspected.

Trapped in a dream where he didn’t have any control of his surroundings, Eugene felt on edge.

With his memories of his past life intact, Eugene’s mental power was strong enough to shrug off any ordinary attacks.
Yet even so, Eugene hadn’t been able to notice when these changes were made to his normal sleep pattern.
For a Night Demon to be able to interfere with his dreams so subtly, it had to be quite a high-ranking one.

‘Since when… did I get pulled into this dream? I was just…,’ Eugene trailed off.
In order to try and stay calm, Eugene decided to focus on something else. ‘I am Eugene Lionheart, the reincarnation of Hamel Dynas from three hundred years ago.
I am the son of Gerhard Lionheart and the foster-child of Gilead Lionheart.
I am the disciple of the Red Tower Master Lovellian.’

He didn’t seem to be having any problems with his memory.

‘This dream… it feels somehow different… from a Night Demon’s attack,’ Eugene realized.

This wasn’t an assault.
It didn’t have the unpleasant, sticky sensation to it that a Night Demon’s attack usually had.

The dreamworld shook around him.

‘Ah…!’ Eugene gasped.

Although it was his first time seeing it, the scene being brought to life in front of him seemed somehow familiar.
He was now in the middle of a spacious underground cavity.
In front of him, a large, muscular hulk was carrying a statue several times the size of his own body.

‘It should be fine here,’ the giant figure said.

‘What do mean it should be fine?’ A woman scolded him. ‘The center of the room is a little further than that, no, go back….
Sienna, what do you think?’

Sienna sobbed out a reply as she looked down from where she was floating. ‘A little… hic… to the right… hic… sob… Th-there.’

The man suddenly stopped as he felt a liquid drop onto his head. ‘…How amazing…! It’s actually raining this far down underground.
Hamel, Hamel! Is that you? Have you come to visit us from your place of rest and shed these tears? Don’t cry, Hamel! We won’t… I won’t ever forget you!’

The woman sighed. ‘Molon, please, don’t say something so foolish.
The things that are falling on your head right now aren't raindrops.
They are Sienna’s tears.’

‘Oh, indeed… I thought they were a bit too salty to be raindrops.’

‘Don’t-don’t drink them, you stupid bastard.
Why the hell are you swallowing my tears?!’

The woman comforted her. ‘Don’t cry, Sienna.
Hamel also wouldn’t have wanted you to weep for him.’

‘Hamel… Hamel, that son of a bitch…! Why did he have to die like that? Just why…?! H-he didn’t need to die.
If he just… if he had just turned back….’ Sienna trailed off, her anger suppressed by her sorrow.

‘…Sienna.
Hamel was a great warrior who I have no choice but to recognize.
He was a greater warrior than I, Molon of the Bayar tribe.
Hamel… he must have wanted to die as a warrior.’

Sienna was goaded into a fury once more. ‘He wanted to die as a warrior? Don’t bullshit me, Molon…! It doesn’t matter how you die, you’re just dead.
What difference does it make whether you die as a warrior? Instead of dying as a warrior, it would be better to just live as a human being…!’

WIth a gasp of realization, Eugene stood there blankly as he watched this scene take place.
It really wasn’t his first time seeing this location.
This was Hamel’s grave, which had been dug deep beneath the Nahama Desert.
This was a scene from when the grave was first being built.

Molon erected the statue.
After checking its appearance, the woman, Anise, slowly dragged her feet over to one of the walls.

 

—Hamel, you have bad posture.

—What are you saying all of a sudden?

—I’m saying that it doesn’t reflect well on all of us.
I know that your childhood education was cut short and that you’ve been a mercenary for a long time, but since you’ll now be traveling with us, you need to fix your bad posture.

—Why should I?

—You’re really asking why….
Don’t you understand what kind of position you’re in? Hamel, you’re a companion of the master of the Holy Sword, he who is recognized by the Holy Empire, the Hero Vermouth Lionheart.
And I am the Holy Empire’s Saint, Anise Slywood.

—Alright, and I’m Hamel Dynas.

—Why haven’t you introduced my name? I am Molon Ruhr.
Proud warrior of the Bayar tribe and the son of its chieftain, Darak Ruhr—

—Shut up, Molon.

—Idiot.

—Hamel…! Don’t you think that you were a little too harsh on Molon.

—You also looked at Molon just now and told him to shut up, didn’t you?

—However, I didn’t call Molon an idiot.
Even if you’re not wrong in calling Molon an idiot, don’t you see that it’s very disrespectful to call a fool a fool to their face.

—I’m not an idiot.

—Hamel, it isn’t just your posture that’s bad, the way you conduct yourself is also flawed.
You’re just too vulgar.

—Don’t you think that you’re being a bit too harsh?

—Correcting your behavior is also important, but if you keep your mouth shut for now, at least people won’t be able to tell what kind of cesspit you have for a mouth[1].
So let’s just fix that bad posture of yours for starters.

—And what’s so bad about my posture—

—You’re doing it right now! Don’t cross your legs.
Sit with your back straight.
Your feet, make sure not to drag your feet.
That creates an unpleasant noise.
When you walk, you need to keep your shoulders back and your chest out….
Now for your knife… pay attention to your knife! You need to hold it lightly, like a pen… where in the world would you find a madman who uses a knife like an ax when he’s just cutting the meat on his plate?!

—You’re looking at one right now.

 

In the early days of their party, Anise had hounded Hamel for quite some time, hoping to fix his behavior.
It hadn’t proved to be a wholly pointless effort.
Although his normal words and actions went unchanged from start to finish, thanks to Anise’s troublesome and persistent corrections, Hamel had at least managed to absorb and ingrain some table manners.

Despite having done all that, Anise was dragging her feet herself right now, and walking along with her shoulders slumped, too.
Each time she dragged her feet, a scraping sound could be heard from the ground.

‘…Hic….’ She was crying.

Anise was actually crying.
The Anise who was always smiling brightly, even as she drove knives into other people’s hearts.
That Anise Slywood was really crying for him.

‘…Almighty God of Light, please… please protect and watch over this foolish lamb.
Please lead him with mercy and love on his arduous journey to his final resting place, and should darkness fall onto this lamb’s path, please illuminate the way forward with your light.’

Even as she wept, Anise carved these prayers onto the wall.

‘…Please burn away all the remaining burdens left from his life with your flaming torch.
Instead of the door behind which only pain and despair awaits, please open unto him the door of heaven, which is full of peace and happiness, If his good deeds are not enough to qualify for his entrance into the kingdom of heaven, please place the cost of the difference onto my shoulders, so that we can someday reunite with each other in the same afterlife.’

Molon stood in front of the statue that had proudly been erected in the center of the room.
His lips were squeezed firmly shut as he stared up at the statue.

But why was he now taking his clothes off? Was he feeling hot?

That’s right, deserts did get pretty hot, and when you needed to cool down, Eugene guessed that the fastest way to deal with it was just to take your clothes off.

Molon was just that kind of person.
If he was hot, he took his clothes off, if he was cold he put some on, if he was hungry he ate, and if he was thirsty he drank.

And if there was an enemy in front of him, he would charge right at them, no matter how strong the enemy was.

 

—Molon! Block them!

 

If someone gave him the order, Molon would rush over and block the enemy without any hesitation.

‘…Hamel.’

That was why Molon was now weeping.

There wasn’t any complicated reason for his tears, it was just because he was sad.
Sad enough that tears were welling up inside him, and that was why Molon was crying.

‘…I wanted to have a match with you someday… to decide between you and me… which of us was the greatest warrior.’

Molon was the type of guy to just go along with his desires, but he hadn’t been so direct as to challenge Hamel to a fight.

There had been a very simple and natural reason why Molon hadn’t done so.

Because Hamel was his comrade.

His friend.

If they wanted to decide which of them was the greatest warrior, they would need to go all out in their fight, without holding anything back.
That was the only way they would truly be able to test each other’s skills.
But if they did that, one or even both of them could have been seriously injured.

That was why Molon hadn’t challenged Hamel to a duel.
Even if he did have the thought of deciding which of them was the superior warrior, he didn’t want to fight with all his might against his fellow comrade and friend, Hamel.

Molon was just that type of guy.

‘I’ve never really fought with you.
And from now on, I’ll never get the chance to fight with you again.
However, Hamel, even without having fought, I know the truth.
I truly respect you, Hamel.
You… you’re a greater, braver, and stronger warrior than I am.’

As for Sienna, without saying anything, she just floated down to the ground and sat on the spot.

Ever since earlier, from the start of the dream in fact, Sienna had been crying.
Even now, she was still weeping.
Tears were pouring down her face and dampening the floor.

In-between sobs, Sienna said, ‘…If you didn’t die… if you had lived… that would have been enough.
Hamel.
We could have… we could have… been happy.
More than anyone else in the world… we deserve to have happiness….’

She had told him that she wanted to live an ordinary life, get married like an ordinary person, have a few children, then live to see herself become a grandmother.

‘Do you know? Hamel….
People are saying that we’re heroes.
The heroes who saved the world.
Haha…!’

While rubbing her reddened eyes, Sienna looked up at the statue.

‘Hamel.
You… I’m sure you would have hated those words.
Because you’re a son of a bitch, and you have a shitty personality as well.
You probably would have cursed out anyone who called you a hero.
Heroes? How could we be called heroes when we weren’t even able to slay all the Demon Kings? I’m sure that’s what you would say.’

Sienna continued to laugh even as she kept crying.

‘We… we didn’t manage to complete our quest.
…It couldn’t… it couldn’t be helped.
That’s right, of course we couldn’t do it.
Because you were dead.
That’s why, Hamel, please don’t… don’t resent us too much.
Even if it’s not now, mmm, it might be impossible right now, but….’

Sienna clenched her fists.

‘Someday.
That’s right.
Someday… we will definitely do it.
So that when they call us heroes, we can actually be proud of such a shameful title.
Someday, we will be able to meet each other again in the world that you have been longing to see.’

Sienna turned her head to look behind her.

‘Because he made an Oath to that effect.’

Behind her stood Vermouth.

Vermouth was staring at the statue with a slight distance between him and the others.
His face was completely blank.
It was a look that Eugene had become used to seeing on Vermouth’s face.

Sienna glared at Vermouth as she waited for a response.

‘…That’s right,’ Vermouth eventually said. ‘That was the reason for the Oath.’

‘…An Oath that only you know the full details of,’ Sienna muttered reproachfully.
After a few moments, Sienna stopped glaring at Vermouth. ‘…I’m sorry, Vermouth.
I… I’m just too… agitated right now.’

‘…Let’s write him an epitaph,’ Vermouth muttered as he lifted his hand.

He activated the spatial magic that Eugene had seen him use all the time.
From a wide gap that seemed to have been torn into space, a large tombstone fell to the ground.

‘After all, every grave should have a memorial stone,’ Vermouth murmured.

 

[Hamel Dynas]

(Sacred Calendar 421~459)

 

Vermouth reached out his hand and wrote Hamel’s name onto the tombstone.

Staggering up onto her feet, Sienna walked over to Vermouth.
Hesitating, her eyes shifted left and right between Vermouth and the tombstone.

‘…I want to write something below that,’ Sienna finally said.

‘Alright,’ Vermouth agreed.

‘He was a son of a bitch, an idiot, an asshole, a douche, a piece of trash,’ Sienna read out as she wrote.

Vermouth hesitated. ‘…If that’s all you write down, I don’t think we can call it a memorial stone anymore.’

‘You can just write down whatever you want to write below this,’ Sienna insisted.

‘Then I’m next.’ Molon, who had been shedding thick droplets of tears, abruptly got up from where he had been sitting and walked over to them.

‘You’re not wrong in saying Hamel was a son of a bitch, an idiot, an asshole, a douche, a piece of trash.’

‘But he was also brave.’

‘…As well as brave, he was faithful.’

‘…He might have been an idiot, but he was wise.’

‘…He was great.’

They all wrote down their words onto the memorial stone.

After placing the memorial stone down in front of the statue, Vermouth muttered, ‘…Let’s move the coffin.’

Vermouth walked over to the coffin that lay behind him.

‘I’ll lift it,’ Molon said, stepping forward.

But Vermouth shook his head. ‘No.
Let me… carry it.’

Anise broke up the argument, ‘Don’t even think about doing it all on your own.
Everyone… wouldn’t it be better for all of us to lift it together?’

‘Molon, get down,’ Sienna ordered.

Molon frowned. ‘Why do you want me to get down?’

‘Because you’re a lot taller than us.
Since it’s impossible for us to carry the coffin together with you, you should get down on your hands and knees so that we can put the coffin on your back.
That way, we can help lift it from the sides,’ Sienna explained.

‘Are you really telling me to crawl with the coffin on my back? A warrior shouldn’t creep along on the ground—’

‘Can’t you even do that much for Hamel?’

‘Well, if it’s for Hamel….’

As soon as Molon started getting down onto the ground, Sienna panicked and kicked Molon in the shin.

‘Can’t you tell that was just a joke…?! There’s no need for you to crawl on the floor.
You just need to bend over a bit, so that we can carry it together,’ Sienna exasperatedly stated.

The dream began to shake.

Anise noticed something. ‘…Sienna.
That necklace….’

‘The coffin…,’ Sienna hesitated. ‘No… I’ll take it with me.’

‘…That goes against the agreement.’

‘…Haven’t we all already agreed on this?’ As the dream kept shaking, he saw Sienna tighten her hold on the necklace. ‘After creating the world that Hamel wanted to see… at that time… I’ll give it to him’

‘…Oh, Lord.’ Anise put her hands together and began praying. ‘Please avert your eyes from this immoral act.
If you truly aren’t able to overlook this, please place any further burdens on my shoulders, so that we may all ascend to heaven.
So in that way… I hope that you allow us all to meet once again in the same place.’

‘…Anise, do you really think we can all go to heaven?’ Sienna asked.

‘If we’re not able to get there, then who in the world is worthy of going to heaven?’ Anise insisted.

‘But my… our tribe’s afterlife… might be a different place from the God of Light’s heaven,’ Molon brought up worriedly.

‘It’s no different.
Heaven is… all heavens lead to the same place.
We will surely be able to reunite in Paradise.
If that isn’t possible then,’ Anise paused slightly as she stroked the white coffin with a sad smile. ‘Then that just means God does not exist.’

 

“Ah,” Eugene gasped as he opened his eyes.

After staring blankly up at the roof of his tent for a few moments, Eugene slowly pulled himself up.

“…Fuck.”

The Cloak of Darkness had been wrapped around Eugene like a blanket.

But the Holy Sword Altair was somehow protruding from his cloak, and the hilt was resting in Eugene’s hand.

1.
The original Korean version of this idiom is ‘what kind of rag you have stuck in your mouth.’ ☜

Openbookworm's Thoughts

Openbookworm: It always amuses me to see what his friends wrote on Hamel’s tombstone.
I actually had to look it up to make sure that I used the same words as I did before.

penguin: what a terrible day for rain