Today we, the Roman Empire, were tragically defeated by the terrible Celtic Barbarians from the North. With their war paint and war cries, not to mention huge maiming battle axes, we had no hope of survival.
Knowing this, one brave solider decided to attempt a truce with these monsters, and was sent to the far away land of Ireland (in the bushes).
Luckily, he was able to get a message, via Currier pigeon, that we were about to be under attack, and so we made our brave last stand.
The attack was quick and brutal. These warriors were not only ruthless to their enemies, but many of them were fighting with their insides hanging out (due to a run in with Biology Class earlier today). We had no hope of defeating such a fearless foe.
Even with our armor and grand technological advantages (cameras and hard foam swords) the barbarians over ran our forces and we quickly decided that we would run, or die.
We hid in the shelter of the hills (also known as the garden) until the battle cries were quieted and the barbarians left to eat their snack.
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