Disclaimer: Bite me.

Author's Note: Argh! I hate it when people write crap like "Ken saw Yolei. She was so beatiful. He had to kiss her. 'I love you,' he said. 'Oh, Ken, I've always loved you,' she replied."

I'm not claiming I'm brilliant or anything; heck, I'm dumb as a post, but I know that's not right. Ken isn't like the other kids. He's a Nazi, he think's he's superior to them. He's also violent and sadistic. Kissing Yolei would NOT float his boat. Maybe spanking her would, but I'll save that for the lemons...

Anyways, now that I've got my rant out I can start my story. Oh, and as you can guess from the title I'm also a big Dilandou Albatou fan. :)

***The Diabolical Adonis: Part One***

Ken Ichijouji, the self-styled Digimon Emperor, luxuriated in his plush leather throne. It had been a good day -no, a very good day- and he felt like celebrating. The plethora of screens around the room all showed scenes of Dark Ring-bearing Digimon, his Digimon, fighting and killing and enslaving the Digital World. And it had all been so simple. He'd just waited until those damnable Digidestined had cleared out, then he'd gone right back and enslaved the very Meramon they'd worked so hard to free. A cruel smirk twisted Ken's thin lips; he'd worked those Meramon like dogs to rebuild and reconquer his Empire while the Digidestined were gone, and he'd just love to see the expressions on their faces when they got back.

Sensing that Ken was in a fairly good mood, Wormmon scuttled up to try to curry some favor with his human partner. He knew that Ken despised him, but a Digimon could always hope, couldn't he?

"Oh, Master, you should throw a party. The other Digimon can bring snacks and we'll invite all of your friends-"

As the words came out of his mouth, Wormmon realized his mistake.

Oh, no, now I've done it, Wormmon cried inwardly. Ken hated it when he mentioned other humans, but especially the Digidestined or his former family and friends. Wormmon tried to clamp a pincer over his runaway mouth, but it was too late.

Cape billowing, Ken leapt out of his leather chair and reached for the whip he kept at his belt. Although he couldn't see Ken's eyes from behind his dark glasses, Wormmon knew that they would be focused on him.

"You pathetic bug!" yelled Ken. "How many times do I have to tell you! The Real World means nothing to me! I'm better than all of them!"

He raised his whip threateningly as Wormmon attempted to crawl out of the way. Thinking better of it, Ken dashed forward and kicked Wormmon, hard, with one of his heavy metal-toed boots. Wormmon, caught by surprise, flew across the throne room and slammed into the wall with a satisfying splat. He slid off the wall and landed on his back in a helpless position. Impotent, stubby legs flailing, he cried out to Ken.

"Master, a little help here...?"

Ken snorted and turned away. Using his whip was a delight, of course, but sometimes the cold hard feel of a kick was just so much more satisfying.

Anyway, let the bug suffer the consequences of his own actions. That was the real difference between himself and the Digidestined. Those touchy-feely idiots left the decisions up to their own Digimon. And consequently they lost, battle after battle after battle. It made Ken want to slap them, it was so stupid, so wrong-headed. A real leader did not leave things up to others to make a mess of.

Instead, a real leader took control. He whipped his men -his Digimon- into submission. Frederick the Great had the idea: The soldier must fear his officers more than he fears the enemy. Otherwise, how would the soldier get anything done? If he didn't fear his officers he might as well decide not to fight, after all.

And that was why he, Ken Ichijouji, was the Digimon Emperor. That was why he would soon rule the entire Digital World.

Pathetic worm, what does he know about friends?

But still, it bothered him. Could Wormmon be right?

No, of course not. People in the Real World were idiots. Witness the typical mall-goers, two hundred pound behemoths lumbering slowly through Sears-Roebuck. They gobbled artery-clogging filth, flabbily stretched their dirty "exercise-wear" to the limit, all the while oblivious to the world around them. They dared not think of art or beauty or justice but instead devoted all the limited mental capacities of their puny minds to chicken McNuggets and whether the Rock would win on Smackdown tonight. They were avatars of pathetic.

Ken Ichijouji, the self-styled Digimon Emperor, wanted nothing to do with any of them.

But still, it bothered him. He sprawled once more across his throne, tapping his fingers impatiently.

Maybe I should go bloody up some helpless Digimon. That always makes me feel better. Or maybe hold a few 'games' in the Colosseum.

Normally around this time he'd be near sleep, enjoying daydreams in his scant free time. Daydreams about a truly beautiful new Digimon, one of his own making. It was an amalgam of all the deadly, dangerous Digimon he could get his hands on. He was thinking of calling it 'Chimaeramon.' But it wasn't coming to him tonight.

Damn that Wormmon!

Angrily he stood up. He would go down into the dungeons. Release some of his pent-up stress. Have some fun.

Ken Ichijouji, the self-styled Digimon Emperor, reached for his whip and strode towards the dungeons. Seemingly of their own accord, his thin lips twisted into a sadistic smile.

***End of Part One***

Okay people, I just wrote this off the top of my head. Please, its my first fanfic ever, so please read and review! I'll be your friend...