Right now I'm too sick to really do this. My eyes are closed, and I'm typing by touch. I'll edit it after. My head feels like there's an angry bearded dwarf hitting the side of my skull with a war-hammer over and over, as if I'll let him free soon.
Believe me, dwarf, if I could let you free, you'd be out in the world. I'd love nothing more than for you to get the hell out of my head. Your gold has plugged my sinuses up, and I can only imagine what foul liquid you're pouring from my head. Get out, now.
Realistically, if an angry dwarf were stuck in my skull, he wouldn't be able to come out whole. I would have to take him apart and pull him out bit by bit. Medicine isn't working to dismember him quickly enough, it's just pissing him off. His beard's rubbing the back of my throat, like one of Giger's aliens trying to french kiss a space marine.
I can only hope this dwarf suffocates himself soon.
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