The Warhammer Archie Bunker?

So last night I was falling asleep at the computer again—curse you, caffeine withdrawal! And since I was busy writing at the time, I found myself writing strange things and having to delete them when I woke up again. I’d fall asleep, write something bizarre, wake up enough to realize it, delete it, start writing again, and fall back asleep. I know at one point I put something about “she has to make the morning meeting” and another time there was something about going to an ATM—this while finishing up my Warhammer fantasy novel, mind you. But the winner was the paragraph I somehow ignored three or four times, before finally reading it and realizing what I had written:

"Alaric found three things about this figure disturbing.
"First off, the man was wearing nothing but a wife-beater and boxer shorts—no armour or weapons of any kind. Yet he seemed confident, even cocky, as if he were daring people to attack him."

The man Alaric is looking at, btw, is a Chaos Champion, a massive warrior dedicated to the forces of Chaos. Here’s the description of him from elsewhere in the novel:

"He was tall and broad, this man, powerfully built, and his strides were those of a warrior, heavy yet lithe. His armour was thick, red plates warring with bronze and black for dominance, and every possible surface was covered with barbs and hooks or decorated with runes and with tiny screaming skulls. Chains hung everywhere, barbs at their ends, and the links themselves seemed sharp. His helm was high-crested and bore at its top a plume of some dark, coarse fur that seemed almost to writhe of its own accord, and in his hands he held a massive battle-axe, its twin blades stained a permanent crimson that seemed to shimmer somehow."

So now I have this image of this horrifying, overpowering figure, in full armor—with a wife-beater and a pair of Hawaiian boxer shorts *over* that.

And probably flip-flops. Or fuzzy bunny slippers.

I really need to start saving these outtakes in a separate file. I could probably get a decent comedy novel out of them. Or at least solid proof in case anyone ever accuses me of being sane.