A Barbarian and His Underwear

Where were they?  He couldn't find them.  Where did he put them?  "Mein Untervear!" Cone cried out .  "Vhere ah mein untervear?"  He couldn't pillage and kill without them.

Wait.  Maybe his wife knew.  "Honey!  Come quick!"

A portly woman with long red hair shuffled into the room, huffing and wheezing.  She wasn't always fat.  Back in her pillaging and killing days, she was muscular and hot.  All the male barbarians wanted to be with her.  Then she had two kids, gained wait and never lost it.  "Yes, dear?" she asked through labored breathing.

"Have you seen mein untervear?  I'm getting together with other barbarians to pillage in a half hour.  I need mein untervear?"

"Which ones?" she asked.

"The ones vith the fur." he answered.

"Can't you wear a different pair."

"But those ah mein best ones," he complained.  "They go vell vith mein muscles.  I need them."

She rolled her eyes.  "Oh, you need them, huh?  Underwear are underwear.  Just wear another pair.  In fact, the ones you're wearing now are fine."

He looked down.  "These ah mein lounging untervear.  I can't pillage in these.  They ah too comfortable.  Also, they don't have fur, so they look too plain.  Regular untervear don't strike fear in the hearts of villagers.  I vill be laughed at by fellow barbarian and villagers alike if I vear these."

"Just wear them," she said.

He couldn't just wear anything.  "Every good barbarian needs three things.  Big muscles, a scary veapon, and furry untervear."  He pointed to his abs.  "I have the muscles."  The he pointed the broadsword sheathed around  his waist.  "I have the veapon."  He pulled the waist band of his lounging underwear out and let it snap back to his waist.  "I don't have mein furry untervear."

She sighed.  "Will my chainmail bikini work?  You can borrow that."

He was getting angry.  "I.  Vant.  Mein.  Untervear!"

"Fine, fine," she said.  "I think I washed them last night.  They might still be in the dryer."

A few minutes later, she hobbled in with the underwear in hand.  "Here they are," she wheezed.  "Happy?"

He grabbed the underwear and hugged them.  "Mein untervear!  Thank you, honey.  I can probably still make it to pillage on time."

"Okay," she said.  "Have fun."  With that, she hobbled out of the room.

He hurried out of his lounging underwear and put on his pillaging underwear.  Uh oh.  Something felt off.  They must have shrank in the wash.  "Mein Untervear!  They ah too tight!"