Attila, as told by Jim Meyer

Long ago, in eastern Europe, there lived a fierce warrior named Attila. His skills were mighty, and he attracted a sizable band of bloodthirsty men who, with Attila, invaded Europe and pestered the Romans mightily.

Unfortunately, Attila had a drinking problem. Interestingly, this was what first attracted his fellow warriors to him. Attila was known to imbibe, and then head off to the nearest town and terrorize its inhabitants. His cohorts soon realized that if they tagged along, they could take advantage of the panic that Attila created and freely loot, pillage, and rape (although not necessarily in that order) in Attila's wake.

Attila's men knew the characteristic signals, and they waited for them. After he had consumed a sufficient amount of wine, Attila would rise to his feet, stagger toward his horse, and shout "'S time to hun! Gon' go into town and hun!"

What he meant, of course, was that he wanted to hunt. But in his drunken state, Attila couldn't tell the difference between a cobbler and a cow, and his arrows (when they actually left the bow) would tend to fly in random directions, indiscriminately hitting anything and anyone unfortunate enough to get in the way. In the panic that inevitably ensued, Attila's men found it a simple matter to relieve the townspeople of their possessions.

Villagers weren't the only ones to suffer at the hands of Attila; he was also a terrible rider when he was drunk. He would jump his horse over rails and hedges, oblivious to what lay beyond. And more often than not, what lay beyond was treacherous footing for the horse. It was not uncommon for Attila to lose one or more horses a day to broken legs, so careless was his horsemanship.

Attila's men put up with this for some time, since the rewards were such that they could withstand the loss of a few horses. But as Attila grew more brazen - and more drunk - he started to lose horses at an alarming rate, far faster than they could be replaced. Something had to be done. After a decidedly nasty outing that saw Attila go through four horses, his men met. Their options were limited, and they soon reached a consensus. Attila was to be kept off the horses, at all costs. The peril of such a course of action was obvious to all, but it was something that had to be done.

They didn't have long to wait. The very next night, Attila got drunker than ever and staggered around camp, looking for a horse, shouting "Horse! Wanna horse! 'S time to hun!" But there were no horses to be found. Attila's men had taken every horse in the camp to a quiet pasture some two miles away.

Attila grew angrier by the minute, and roughly seized any man unlucky enough to be near, lifting them high in the air by their throats and threatening every manner of bodily harm. But his men were of one mind, and they steadfastly refused to provide Attila with a horse.

Finally, Attila stumbled across his closest Lieutenant and demanded to know what was going on. "Where'sh alla horses? Wanna hun!"

"Attila," his Lieutenant explained, "I'm very sorry, but we can't let you get on a horse in this state. You're far too dangerous, and we can't afford to lose any more horses."

"But I wanna horse! Wanna hun!" Attila bellowed.

Fearing the worst, the Lieutenant had no choice but to explain things fully. "Attila," he said, "you can hun, but you can't ride!"

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