Happiness is a mountain of beheaded minions.

Aaah, that was good.

Re-read the Wizard of Oz in record time.

God damn though, the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are so badass. I mean, not only do they never sleep and hold a constant vigil when Dorothy, Toto and the Lion are getting their half-starved, weary-footed, well-earned shut eye; but they each slaughter a freaking army of murderous wolves and crows by decapitation and neck-twisting respectively, not to mention the freaking bees. I mean just check this shit out:

He seized his axe, which was made very sharp, and as the leader of the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf’s head from its body, so that it immediately died. As soon as he could raise his axe another wolf came up, and he also fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman’s weapon. There were forty wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at last they all lay dead in a heap before the Woodman.

Then he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, “It was a good fight, friend.”