‘Well,’ said God King. ‘That’s quite enough of that.’
Quietly he let his arms fall. The church had been covered entirely in steaks.
‘Next time that pious little shit tells me to think upon my actions I shall grant him two heads.’
‘But sir-‘ started the general.
‘General! Why exactly are you here?’
‘You asked me to be here.’
‘Oh, well in that case you’re dismissed.’
The general sighed relief and left straight away heading toward a tavern on the affluent side of the city. The skies above were fast being blotted by crows, hawks and numerous other birds darting to the church roof. God King thought to himself how hard it was to be king and made his way back to the castle by teleport. The elite guard started to make their way on foot.
----------------------------------
‘Merek! Merek!’ shouted God King.
Merek, his personal manservant, was busy cleaning one of His twelve personal toilets muttering about how to kill him by poisoning the seats. ‘I deserve a bribe,’ he thought to himself as he entered the throne room.
‘Sire?’
‘Tell me a story,’ said God King.
‘Surely a jester would be best suited?’
‘No, from you.’
‘Okay, well then perha-‘
‘About me.’
Merek froze momentarily. ‘…made up?’
‘No! About something I’ve done.’
‘You have done many things. There was the flood that created the lake, the lake fire, the frog incident…’
‘Yes, indeed,’ mumbled God King as he lit up his pipe. ‘Let us not speak of the frog incident.’
‘The time you defeated the Wezard was notable,’ offered Merek.
‘Yes, regale me.’
The West Wizard was a conspicuous individual. Having tremendous power but absolutely no fan base on account of his popularist traits, he became known as The Wezard because saying ‘The West Wizard’ got annoying and it also mocked his excruciating western accent.
The Wezard sought to ‘liberate’ the city from God King but was met with violence when he naively transformed a slum tavern into a structurally integral one without graffiti. The slums do not care for your ways, he was told in manner of different words, and fists and throwing knives across the street.
A showdown between the God King and the Wezard occurred on the grand river bridge which was potentially about to devastate the city. Having blocked God King’s resurrected turrets, the Wezard had crushed through the elite guard towers and was on the verge of obliterating the castle with comet fire.
It was only the tactics of one general exploding dynamite under the bridge that brought the Wezard’s shields down for a chance moment, and it was that one moment that God King had seized upon, rendering his foe to a crumpled bloody pulp.
After repairing the bridge God King had made good with the slums, helping them to transform their tavern back to a makeshift tent.
‘I should visit them again soon,’ said God King.
‘It couldn’t hurt,’ said Merek. ‘What news of the priest?’
‘I gave him a message, but I should have destroyed him for his insolence. He is annoyingly popular. Still at least now he can do all the fucking bird watching he likes.’
‘I don’t follow-’
‘Don’t worry. You just worry about those royal thrones, Merek!’ laughed God King heartily.
Merek sighed and trudged back to the toilets.
ns 172.69.7.7da2
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