No one is going to get my pants off me again. I mean trousers, not underpants, but they’re not getting them either. So back off.
Oberhau, Unterhau, Mittlehau, Zornhau, Krumphau …
I’m going through the sword cuts in my head because it’s better than thinking of my future—locked up by the police or at least permanently grounded by Mum—and it’s way better than thinking of my past. Because even if being a knight is about to get me into a whole lot of trouble it’s still better than being a loser.
Especially a loser with no pants.
Because a year ago I wasn’t Oliver the knight who knew all about German Longsword and oberhau and how to swing a sword (more on that at the end of the post) I was Oliver the dork who’d come out of the change rooms to find his trouser legs dangling from the swimming pool roof.
Nerd to Knight 