I remember this situation a little differently...
I was cutting cookies so dang fast at the time with my pipe saw that the exhaust was knocking bystanders to the ground to my right.
A gang of thugs approached and tried to challenge me to a dual but the roar from my saw was so mighty, their shouts of challenge sounded like the surrender of tit-mice in the distance.
I laughed like a titan and shook my flowing blond mane in the wind created by my spinning chain, all was good in the world.
Then came Treachery Most Foul....
As I was distracted by the weeping masses of adoring, would-be woodsmen before me, a particularly loathsome beast from the far off desert snuck upon me from the rear like a jackal and through cowardly sabotage laid low my mighty blade.
The hoard was upon me swiftly.
Disarmed though I was, i fought valiantly against the brood led by a mastermind and his learing henchman Nevik.
I was distracted by the leering and catcalls of Clan Mizzurable, still so smitten with the curvature of my posterior as to be motionless in the distance.
As I combatted the trio of cretins I felt my energy being stripped away by my need for smoked ham and a nap.
I knew I had to finish this melee swiftly or be laid low by my own lethargy so I made a final move to crush my assembled foes.
I thrust my mighty piper into the ground, still full throttle and taching right at 15, 400, with all of the force my mighty sinews could muster.
As I struck the Tectonic plate far below, the work chain held firm and the stone gave way before me, as all things must eventually.
The earth shook, and lightning was drawn from the sky.
In the ensuing chaos strong men were made to crawl in the pasture, calling for their mothers.
As the smoke cleared and light slowly returned to the world, I stood above the throngs bowed in homage to my greatness and did finally relinquish my hold on the trigger.
She spooled down, muffler still cool to the touch and whispered sweet solace to the souls she had vanquished that day.
