Ah, Saturday. The king of days. All the other days toil away in their caves while King Saturday looks on from his glorious throne settled on a hill of the skulls of his rebellious serfs. He laughs as he takes a long draught from his golden chalice of mirth-juice, then he turns and pulls a passing wench onto his lap and lays a hot smooch on her face. As she swoons in his enormous arms, he becomes possessed with violence, grows to ten times his normal size, swallows the wench whole, and destroys his palace in a maniacal rage. Ah, Saturday.
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