Who’s Blad? A Piss Fable Starring Tycho Brahe

 

A tale of honor, hubris, and holding it in too long…

Once upon a time, in the court of Emperor Rudolf II — known to some as the Holy Roman Emperor, and to others (mainly us) as The Pimp King — a banquet was held.

It was opulent. Candles for days. Goblets of fermented whatever. People wore ruffled collars so wide they couldn’t see their neighbors. The reason? A celebration in honor of Tycho Brahe’s brother, who had just landed a major promotion at Spatula City.

Brahe, a famed Danish stargazer and partial-nose-haver, was in attendance. He was brilliant. He was refined. He was… full.

But etiquette was law in the court of The Pimp King.

“One does not relieve one’s self during a royal feast,” they whispered.

“If you rise, you’ll be hung by your dickhole from the tallest tree in all the land — for all to laugh at.”

So Brahe held it. And held it. For 7 seconds (to Mars). Then 7 hours. Then too long.

He began crying urine. Snotting Bristol 7s. He refused to rise.

He feared it would offend the emperor.

Then — tragedy.

His bladder burst.

Some say it didn’t kiss on the first date. Others say every drop went into the king’s royal Hawaiian Punch fountain.

The guests panicked.

They tried mouth-to-blad recitation.

Half the room was already dead. The other half? Ate them for dessert.

A few days later, Tycho was gone.

Not from the stars. From his own bladder’s rebellion.

Historians agree: his dedication to etiquette proved fatal.

And most people don’t know this story until someone like you tells them.

So now you know.

And knowing is half the battle.