RED STATE RUCKUS

The Last Legate of Pannonia Posterior

By Strabojonatus

 

All Pannonia is divided into a bunch of parts.  There is Primus Pannonia , a land where bare breasted women sing yodels and wave bunches of juicy grapes at passers by.  Ulterior Pannonia has men eight feet tall made of gold, who never lie, and give away their gold to strangers, since they shit bricks everyday.  Pannonia Ultra is full of forests where mischievous imps and nymphos drink and party by day and rock and roll all night.  Travelers to these places have nothing but wondrous tales of the Nymphos and golden bricks and yodeling flaxen haired perfectly symmetrical mountain beauties.  In all these great things, Pannonia is blessed with wanton abundance.  So great are the wonders that Pannonia is the most sought after posting for a Roman fresh out of tribune school.

However, the fourth part, Pannonia Posterior, is not it seems as welcome a posting as the other parts.  At one time, Eastern Pannonia was the gem of the Empire, a place that rivaled even the other tasty bits in the other Pannonic portions.  Most now call this place Pannonia Sinister for obvious reasons, for now the wilderness is scoured by ex-slaves and brigands and barbarians who ambuscade all travelers and rob them and do other unmentionable things.  Or worse the skanky female high priestesses that bring their hapless victims to caves and turn their victims into beasts to build their temples.  It is a dark land scoured by rivers that run red with the mud from endless run-off after the freezing rains, that alternate with inhospitable heat.  Night lasts longer here than days.  The city folk huddle in their walled towns and only the bravest venture forth in the few hours of daylight. No tribune pines for a posting in Pannonia Posterior.

But how did Pannonia Posterior fall into decay?  What grave fatal calamity must have caused such a demise?  It is here that we speak of our subject, Gaius Panicus the last Legate of Pannonia Posterior, whose tale is scribed on the arch of Posterior Pannonia which greets the rider at the pass of Woebegottenmarchenboggin.

The Saga of Gaius Panicus Panicus paused as he passed into Pannonia raised his standard on a hill top knoll as the host of Rome deployed below he sat on his horse and swayed in the saddle too much local ale imbibed, his brain it did addle a doughnut or too would help quell the buzz but soon the ruckus roared as the battle lines crushed Panicus planned well, he left nothing to chance against the cunning foe who charged in abundance the barbarians surged and surrounded his legions nothing would shake them, as they were well seasoned but Panicus burped, such a horrendous loud blast and all his troops turned round all aghast because his horse it did rear, and buck up in the air Panicus lost control of the steed, a look of despair as the bucking horse sped Panicus off the field the legions bore down, but they had to yield and when Panicus bolted past the safe camp the soldiers knew it was time to scamp and lo the great army crumbled in bedlam Panicus could do nothing but equally scram the barbars scourged poor Pannonias ’ Posterior they scattered the army, away to the interior but Panicus fled past the Pillars of Hercule he fled across Britannia and he fled across seas with his skittish horse, over time and cent’ries he still flees today, again and again to the ends of the earth and then back again so Panicus bucks as his doughnut burps fly some say he has panicked up into the sky…..

….. but others say he’s just waiting for the damn coffee maker to be finished..   Jeez can’t anybody make a decent cup of coffee here???

 

The end

 

Back Home