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In book 21, the Trojan Lycaon sees Achilles and falls to his knees, squealing, “don’t hurt me! My daddy’s rich! He’ll pay you just PLEASE DON’T HURT ME” (not a literal translation but pretty close). Homer’s heroes may be musclebound giants, but Achilles is the Chuck Norris of them all, meaning grown men pee their pants and snivel for their lives when he’s around. Instead he gores poor little “Leucus, Odysseus’ buddy.” Homer doesn’t dwell on it, but he says Leucus gets shafted right in the βουβών, a word that means “groin” or worse, “glands.” That’s gotta hurt. In the chaos, the Trojan prince Antiphos misses the mark when he throws his spear at the Greek hero, Ajax. Book 4 is a no-holds-barred bloodbath - Hera, who’s insatiably thirsty for Trojan blood, sends her fellow-goddess Athena to earth to bring the pain, and a lawless mêlée erupts. With Achilles sulking over his girlfriend, the Trojan war goes pretty FUBAR for a while.
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“Unholy shrieking rose from them as they died,” Homer says, “and the ground ran red with their blood.” It’s a low blow, but it gets the job done: while the Trojans are cuddled up all snug, the two Greeks eviscerate twelve of them, spilling their guts on the ground. In desperation, they send two undercover operatives, Diomedes and Odysseus, to slaughter the Trojans in their sleep. When the Greeks lose their star fighter, Achilles, they’re playing at a serious handicap. The fact that this is the least gory item on this list should tell you something about the upcoming mayhem.