The Kingdom of Majestic Majesty CHAPTER ONE: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Through the narrow slit of the dungeon window the sky was was awash with fire – splashed with burnished hues of ember, as if delivered haphazardly from the jittering pallet of some maniacal French impressionist. An angry wind prowled outside, chasing about the backyard and displacing the plastic patio furniture. Shafts of pale light, filtered through the canopy of trees above impaled the floor and illuminated the billowing clouds of incense within. Inside the kingdom was quiet, save for the purring of Majesty's steed. The miniature saddle sat awkwardly upon Majesty's feline mount, yet the small tabby cat had an air of nobility in its comfy repose. Majesty trundled along upon his throne – a wheeled leather office chair emblazoned with a custom embroidered coat of arms. Moving effortlessly between his row of phosphorescent portals, or 'monitors' as some might call them, he surveyed his kingdom- All was well – no-one had dared to take any of his allies or write upon his wall begging for hire. Adjusting his Burger King cardboard crown, he majestically navigated to the world chat screen of the intricate KAW interface. He smiled as he surveyed the weaklings who begged in unison for hires or volleys. What disgusting, pathetic creatures they were, those hordes of snivelling drones with their bargain basement builds and shoddy ally lists. Pushing aside the stack of printed iTunes receipts, he claimed his diamante-encrusted iPod Touch and selected the soundtrack to his heroic exploits – Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. As the epic strains of Orff's setting of the medieval texts began to build, he spread his arms wide, jerking back the cloak fashioned from a pair of crimson velvet curtains by his maternal grandmother and absorbed the energy of the music's tumultuous climax. “I... AM... MAJESTY!” he bellowed. “I AM THE KING OF KAWWWWWW!!!!!” Then, just as he fell to his knees, overcome by emotion, the basement door slowly opened and an eldery woman descended the stairs. “Are you alright honey?” she asked, her face stained with concern. Majesty fixed her with a gaze of absolute disdain. “Mother... in my kingdom YOU... SHALL...CALL...ME...SIRE!!!” he screamed, flinging his laser mouse at the pitiful intruder. “s-s-s-sorry Sire” she whimpered, as the discarded peripheral clattered into the shadows, turning to hurriedly scamper up the basement steps. Majesty drew a laboured breath and sat back in his throne. "Imbeciles" he whispered under his breath. Soon all of them would fall at his feet. Soon they would stoop to kiss his ring. Soon. Soon. SOON... To be continued.