Tevun-Krus #47 - Galactic Empire

#askmadmike, Part 1

Mad Mike's Anal Advice

Sit down, childe, and listen to a true story, one in which a slave of uncertain parents, born under an uncertain star sign on an uncertain date and an uncertain planet, became the ruler of our glorious Empire.

It all started with a Spice deal gone wrong.

Well, no. That's not entirely true. Actually the Spice deal gone wrong came after the Spice trip gone right. Our glorious ruler had smoked Spice on many occasions prior. One might even call him a bit of a Spicehead. But this trip was the one that revealed to him his ultimate destiny of overthrowing the then-current regime with a ragtag band of rebels, enslaving the populace with said rebels-turned-military, killing all those who opposed his rule, establishing a Manifest Destiny, fabricating a religious leader–icon hybrid and deifying himself for all eternity. And then he saw trippy colours and devoured a whole pizza to himself.

Then the Spice deal happened. He sold some of the good shit to a creepy-looking dude, who it turns out was an undercover agent. It was a sting operation. And our glorious ruler was the guy they'd been working on busting.

He went away to prison, serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Gotta keep the bad guys behind bars, you know?

He lost his mind when a child-rapist-slash-murderer got out after twenty years for good behaviour and a hobby for reading to his future victims. Lost his mind and lost his drive to stay inside. So he broke out with the help of some decent folk—cold-blooded killers and the like—who later became the founding members of his rebellion.

He smuggled himself in the anus of a giant monkey leopard and went into hibernation on a ship headed to the capital city of our Empire. The giant monkey leopard was going to the zoo. Our glorious ruler was not. No, he was headed to the Palace to take some fuckin' names down on his kill sheet, and holy fuck was he gonna be writing in a lot of very red blood.

After beheading the previous ruler, he sat himself down on the throne and commanded an entire galaxy to do his bidding. He was a noble man, perhaps even a kind man (if you were on his side).

That man was me, kids. Moral of the story? If you want to rule an empire, smoke enough Spice to kill a Gonaddian elephantelion. Oh, and sell drugs to people.*

*Legal notice: I do not take responsibility for you ruining your life with bad decisions. Your life is your own.**

**Don't kill the Emperor, you little prick.