On this day I, King Leonidas, have come to Adventure Kidz soft play complex where the heart of a true warrior is forged. This is Sparta.
Once inside, I remove my helmet for it is stifling and narrows my vision. I remove my shield for it is heavy, and throws me off-balance. I remove my shoes, for there is a big picture of a shoe with a cross through it. And then I run.
To my left is the ball pool. It is but an appetiser for a son of Sparta. I laugh in its face as I dive-bomb in, thrashing its coloured balls asunder. Some puny adversaries can flip one or two balls onto the carpeted area nearby, but a Spartan warrior can get them as far afield as the cafe, front desk, even car park.
Next, I infiltrate the toddler area – normally barred from intruders by a formidable gate system. I wait for a feeble-minded patrolman to leave it unlocked, then advance. Once inside, I raze to the ground any structures higher than two or three soft-bricks. Any structures of military value, such as forts, I save for occupation. It will be from their secure concealment that a ravenous king can indulge in activities normally taboo in the battle-zone, such as eating Quavers.
With a satisfied belly, I can deal with uprisings. To make an example, I march one particularly mouthy rebel up the perilous climb to the highest target of all: the ‘giant death slide’. I dangle him by his ankles from its dizzying vertical drop and ask him again if he preferred things the way they were before. Ignoring his pleas, I cast him down to oblivion. There is no place for whining in Sparta.
True warriors require to be engaged in conflict for many hours at a time and, with the toilet facilities being literally over 800 miles away from the trampolines, I now appear to be sitting in a suspicious smelling puddle. But it was definitely not bold Leonidas who made this mess, no way. It was definitely Xerxes, because he is a stupid face baby man who is still in pull-ups.
As I leave the war zone victorious, I decide I must be rewarded. Who will buy me this chocolate doughnut? No one is stepping forward which confuses me because as Leader of Free Sparta, I deserve it more than anyone else in the world. I start screaming with every fibre of my being. A destroyer of Persia has lungs like exploding volcanoes because within seconds I am the proud owner of not just a doughnut but a Yazoo as well. Tonight I feast with the gods!
