Day One: Thursday My name is Loki, and I am dying. As the end approaches, my breath is short and my lungs are racked with piteous coughs. Alas, I fear this puny mortal body is finally giving up on me. Farewell, dear Diary. I depart this realm for . I know not where. I die . I die .
I . Correction: You are not dying. You have what mortals refer to as "a bit of a cold." But it FEELS as though I am dying. My head is full of a cruel, hot fog! Foul liquids stream from my nose! Who knew this small body could create so much nostril juice? Is my mortal brain in fact a reservoir of the yellow bile mortals now call snot? Days I have lain abed, wallowing in suffering and sorrow! I have never known such exquisite anguish in all my many thousands of years. Not even that time I had to make the giant Skadi laugh. (Long story, involves me being hilarious, a goat, and a considerable amount of personal pain. I'll tell you when I am not racked with pestilence.
) But life is not without its sunshine. One advantage of being so close to death is that I get to miss school. Another compensation for my suffering is the fact that my fake parents have been bringing me many snacks, including foods I would not usually be allowed to eat at meals. Even Thor came to see how I was and did not fart on my head. Once well enough to leave my bed, I lay groaning on the sofa. Heimdall permitted that I watch (in his words) "as much television as you want as long as you stop wiping snot on the cushions." Perhaps I should try to be ill more often. But that is where the sunshine ends and a bitter, poisonous rain descends.
The poison in question? My enemy Vinir, who has been living with us ever since he was banished from the elven realms. (Vinir recently tried to murder me using magic. So this is NOT an irrational hatred on my part.) ! Unlike most of your other hatreds . Hyrrokkin created a pocket-dimension bedroom for Vinir to live in, so at least I do not have to share my room. While he no longer harbors murderous intent, having your enemy live beneath your roof is deeply unfair. He has been in my dwelling for many centuries. ! Lie detected! Well, it FEELS like centuries, for every day he heaps new miseries upon me.
In a twist I did NOT predict, Vinir's monstrous presence has prompted a new appreciation for Thor. He may be a flatulent beast, but at least he does not hog the bathroom in the mornings. How long does an elf in mortal form really need to do his hair? He already wakes up looking as if he's been in a hairdresser's chair for several hours! ! Are you just angry that Vinir has better hair than you?.