“Kiss my arse.” “Would ye like to see…awk…me arse?” “Would ye like to have your feathers plucked and stuffed down your bloody throat?” “Show me yer legs. Awk.” “Go bugger yourself.” “Kiss me, dearling. Kiss me, dearling. Kiss me, dearling.” Snorting with disgust, Eirik threw a wool cloak over the...