I can remember my Swedish grandmother cursing my Scottish grandfather every time 'the pipes' were heard in the house. "Herre Gud! Enough with that Scottish nonesense! Sounds like a thousand dying felines!" I, for one, find the sound to be both powerful and sublime and I always stop and envision Braveheart battle scenes whenever the sweet sound of the pipes reacheth mine ear (which is hardly ever really). What say ye all? Clarion of the Gods or Satan's Own Bladder?
There will be pipes at this man's funeral.
There will be pipes at this man's funeral.