A sense of panic beset our hero as he slowly recovered from the last blow to his head. Neither his arms nor his legs were yet operational and he realized that he was in deep trouble.

I'm blind! I'm deaf! I can't breathe!

His face was buried deeply in some undefinable soft stuff. He wiggled his head in vain, trying to extricate himself, but no matter how desperately he moved, more of the billows seemed to fill his nose, his ears, his eyes.

By Freya's dugs! Just when I've found the perfect woman to bear my children.

Stars began to sparkle behind his darkened eyes. His breath became shallower. Yet somehow, despite his dire peril, he found his predicament somewhat -- pleasant.

He wriggled his face around energetically. Was that a whiff of bread -- BREAD? Tentatively he forced his tongue from between his lips. Was that -- rye?

Strange noises escaped his throat, rumbling from deep within his chest.

Mmpppppff! Mmmmmmmfff!

Realization came at long last. He would die between the heavenly mammalian attributes of his beloved Amalasuntha, smothered in their bounty!

With his last ounce of strength, he managed to arrange his face in a smile.

If only, he thought, there could have been cookies, too...