Berengar collapsed back into his leather-bound chair within his office and sighed heavily. At the moment, he was in a sorry state, dressed in nothing but a silk robe, and currently had a bag of ice pressed against his crotch. In his hand was a frosty beer, which he chugged as if he was a man lost in the desert. After finishing the beer, he placed the bag of ice aside and cracked open another one, taking a large sip from it before groaning in misery.
"God damn, those girls are going to be the death of me one day..."
After thinking about this, Berengar's mind entered a strange space where he chuckled as if he could see his own gravestone.
"Here lies the Great Kaiser Berengar von Kufstein died of a heart attack at thirty-five while fucking his wives... Oh lord, I can just see that happening."
