Before I was crowned master of the known universe, there were other contenders for the title.
One minute Doubtpuppet McLeod was just minding his own business tempering horse shoes and wot not in the Scottish highlands, then out of nowhere all these whackjobs with swords started jumping out at me screaming “THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!” while trying to cut my bonce off.
“How rude?” thought I. I’d try to deter them with lines like “Hey mister – watch where you’re pointing that thing – you’ll take somebody’s eye out for heaven’s sake!”, “Why can’t we all just get along?”, and “Hey look – over there, behind you!”. But they just kept coming.
Thanks to my heroic courage and exquisite swordplay, I managed to survive long enough for a Spanish fop with an inexplicable Scottish accent to come and tell me what the hell was going on. That was 800 years ago. I’ve been cutting dudes’ heads off ever since in the name of good old healthy competition.
Well, not so long ago, they just stopped coming for some reason and electric beams of awesomeness shot out of me.
And that’s roughly how I became master of the known universe. I’ve been selling all the old stuff I accumulated since then – goes for a song on Ebay. Obviously I don’t wear the skirt any more. It’s undignified.
Nothing much left to do now except write FUCKING SPECTACULAR blog posts and win lobsters.
Who Wants to Live forever – Queen: