Hrothgar: Let’s build a big old dining hall and call it Herot.
(They do. Then Grendel, an ugly guy, takes over Herot and eats people. Beowulf rips his arm off.)
All: You rule, Beowulf.
(Some people make SPEECHES and tell IRRELEVANT STORIES. Beowulf kills some more STUFF.)
Beowulf: Wiglaf, I’m dying. See that my funeral pyre fits my greatness.
Wiglaf: Ok.
THE END
