Page 23 of The Very Virile Viking

"I like the way the sun brings out the silver highlights in your beautiful silken black hair."

"Silver highlights!" she exclaimed. "Oh, my God! I must be getting some gray hairs."

He laughed. "I like your sense of humor."

"Give it up, Magnus."

"Is there naught you like about me?"

"Pathetic! Our faðir is pathetic," he heard Torolf mutter behind him.

Angela thought for a while… too long a while, actually. Then she answered, "I like your big ears."

Yes, he liked the woman's sense of humor. Magnus leaned back in his seat as best he could, well satisfied with his progress thus far. His life was definitely taking a turn for the better.

His previously chattering children went suddenly silent as they gazed out the windows at the passing marvels of this new land. Not only were there horseless vehicles racing across the ground, but there were vehicles speeding through the skies, as well. Magnus still wasn't sure if they had landed in the otherworld or just some new land. For his children's sake, he was trying to maintain a facade of calm, but inside he was roiling with anxiety.

"I guess we'd better stop at the Super Wal-Mart and get some diapers for the baby," Angela said to him.

"By Thor, woman, you are a wonder. You can drive a horseless vehicle and talk at the same time."

'Twas best to compliment women on occasion to smooth their ruffled feathers. That was his philosophy, leastways.

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "Save your Viking act for Darrell. I told you… I'm not interested."

"Why are you so angry with me?"

"Damn, I have no time for this crap. I need to stay on good terms with Darrell because… well, just because. And you showing up like that put me in an untenable situation. Where do you live anyway?

Can't I just drop you off there?"

I already told you—or rather Dare-All—I live in the Norselands. And by the by, coarse words ill suit you, m'lady."

"What coarse words?"

"Damn and crap."

"Give me a break."

"Huh?"

She flung a hand out in disgust.

There was a clicking noise under the wheel she was steering, and they began to veer to the right into a very large open area containing many, many other horseless vehicles of all shapes and colors. "Where are we?"

"Super Wal-Mart."

He rolled the words around in his head and asked, "Mart… is that like a market?"

"Sort of," she said with a shrug as she pulled her vehicle between two white lines.

Finally, something he could understand. He had gone to markets in many a trading town. "Is this where we will buy cloth for Lida's nappies?"

"We can buy disposable diapers here."

"What does disposable mean?"

"It means throwaway."