This! Is!

A bar?

No! Sparta! This is Sparta!

I’m pretty sure it’s a bar.

It could be Sparta.

You just want a bar full of mostly naked greased up men.

Is that so wrong?!

For you, no. Some of us are straight.

I can’t fix that for you, but I would if I could.

I don’t need fixing.

Oh, sorry, right, you think being straight is all normal and stuff.

Just as normal as being gay.

So you claim. Regardless! Sparta.

You know what I don’t get?

Oh, so many things.

There were three hundred guys defending Sparta, right?

Yeah.

How lucky was that?

Considering they all died? Not very.

I mean that it was exactly three hundred! The Two hundred and eighty-seven Spartans doesn’t have as good a ring to it.

Point. I imagine they were all ‘Damn it Bobicus…’

Bobicus?

Well, he can’t be just Bob, he’s all Spartan and stuff, so… Bobicus.

Of course, how silly of me.

I think so, but yeah Bobicus was sick and wanted to stay home and just have a nice bowl of soup, but they wouldn’t let him, because two hundred ninety-nine Spartans wouldn’t seem as imposing.

Or they lied. It wasn’t like the Persians stopped to count.

They should’ve!

They couldn’t! First move of the Spartans was to kill the Persian accountant.

Oh, crafty.

Right! So then they could be all ‘We totally have three hundred dudes here.’

Meanwhile Bobicus sips his soup and snickers to himself and has some more soup.

Persians none the wiser.

We should write history books.

Probably not.

No, probably not.