So was gibt?: of cock horses and knaves

Unpublished pro bono piece. The title
which goes with the original text also
inadvertently fits this blog post of mine!

My life interestingly has encountered its share of prima donnas and primo uomos, neither of whom are inclined towards anything remotely operatic, but yet they deliver their diktat and knavery arias with a mien worthy of hyenas. 

They never seem to get the point, nor truly wish to, and are hardly inclined to making anything easier for those outside of themselves and their cliques. 

They charge on their cock horses, itinerant scarecrows, roosters and hens of the walk and killjoys, who even proverbially could not dance on pointe in the dank catacombs of their minds — or anything remotely close to an extrapolated analogy of the same. That much one may be sure. But your existence is fair game to these dastards (what better time to seek an English word stemming from Old Norse: dæstr). These are truly knaves (no feminine form really). 

Makes me wonder in German so was gibt? What gives? “So what else? or what's up? or even what more?” What more!?