Thomas Kinkade Perseverance

Thomas Kinkade Perseverance
with spikes. She had knee pads with spikes on, and spikes on her sandals, and a rather short skirt in the fashionable tartan and blood motif. One hand rested nonchalantly on a double-headed battle axe with a spike on it, the other caressed the hand of a captured enemy warrior. The rest of the captured enemy warrior was hanging from various pine trees in the back-ground. Also in the picture was Spike, her favorite war pony, of the now extinct Lancre hill breed which was the same general shape and disposition as a barrel of gunpow-der, and her war chariot, which picked up the popular spiky
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helmet with wings and a spike on it and a mass of black hair plaited into dreadlocks with blood as a setting lotion. She was heavily made-up in the woad-and-blood-and-spirals school of barbarian cosmetics. She had a 42 D-cup breastplate and shoulder pads theme. It had wheels you could shave with.
Magrat stared.
They’d never mentioned this.
They’d told her about tapestries, and embroidery, and farthingales, and how to shake hands with lords. They’d never told her about spikes.
There was a sound at the end of the gallery, from back the way she’d come. She grabbed her skirts and ran.
There were footsteps behind her, and laughter.