Eddie loved chocolate. No, that’s an understatement. He craved chocolate. No, he lived for chocolate. So when the feisty chocolate-eating leprechauns of the North came to take it away he girded his loins for war. This upset his mother – he turned her best sheets into a loincloth, took her silver turkey tray and turned it into a shield, the good Thanksgiving knife and carving fork became weapons of war.

He came home from war, jaw stained with the chocolate of his enemies. The good sheets bloodstained, the silver turkey tray dented and dinged, the carving knife and fork ruined.

Eddie sat in the hall of his fathers – well, his mother’s dining room – and feasted on the sweet brown spoils of war and went forth again to battle in the morn.

He stomped on tiny villages and relished the wailing of little women. He savored chocolate confiscated from their storehouses. He was indeed a mighty warrior, for someone who squashed a lot of three-inch-tall, chocolate-eating elves under those big, ugly, stinking feet of his.