Shireroth

The Kaiser was dead. So many of us had counted on Mors V since the reawakening, and now he was gone, murdered by insane democrats.

I fell into small pieces, smaller than those that the Kaiser's funeral would make him into. The Prophet had comforted me with blessed mango, but there was a deep hole at the center of my Shirithianness. The weight of responsibility for the nation was on me like a wet wool blanket.

As I tossed fitfully in my sleep, Loki came to me and spoke.

So, what's withyou?

"But you are of the gods, do you not know?"

Of course I do, but you don't. You need to know. Tell me.

"The Kaiser is dead, and I must rule."

Yes. So? It is your destiny.

"Yes, it is my duty. But what then?"

What do you mean, what then?

"Do you mean I must rule on? How can I?"

You must proclaim yourself. Take my name, and proclaim yourself as Kaiser.

"But am I worthy?"

Worthy, schmerthy. Do like I tell you.

Well, one is not well advised to argue with the gods, especially when you keep them up late. So I did as he instructed.

And yet is was not to be. So I called again upon Loki, and he came to me again last night.

"Loki, I am not Kaiser!!"

I noticed. So?

"But you said......."

Everything I said was true!

"But.."

No buts, bud. Where did I lie?

"in truth, you did not actually LIE, but you said..."

There you go with the 'buts' again. The gods speak with man that what must be must be. By your proclamation, you brought one out of the shadows.

"Penisburg?"

No, idiot.
Hasan, whose name means wisdom. He came out of the shadows of the North in response to your challenge. His challenge purged the Cyberian from you, and your challenge purged the Babkhan from him, making you both more worthy in our sight.

"So, you TRICKED me?"

My name is Loki, what did you expect?

And then I woke up.

BEHOLD THE GODS!

Sakat consulted the history, and it was so.

I dont follow

Sakat, God of History.

This is where I complain about not getting the big prize, and rationalize it.

It's the "off-topic", so its not in anybody's face.

Excuse me

(^#&**&$ ^*)(&#@! %%!!)!

Ahh, that feels better!

There, there. How aboiut a tall, cold lemonade, a massage under the palm trees, and sultry girls waving palm fans to keep you cool? Now, doesn't that feel better? Things will look brighter tomorrow. (And you still got your old job back, and a watch, to boot.)

..and a new 'fidge, the old one old one was making claanky noises.

And a shield...

YES!

From the Prophet himself!

Very prestigious.