The night was dark and full of secrets. Clouds wept watery tears like rain, because it was raining. Dark Armin gazed at the blackened sky, and smiled a devious smile with his red, red lips. The sky was black. Black like his morals.
Lightning split the night, and illuminated Dark Armin's dark lair for the briefest of moments. An ancient dusty tome, written in an ancient tenebrous tongue, lay open on the mahogany desk, lit by a single blood-red candle. Within its yellowed pages lay Dark Armin's plans to take over all the governments, and also the universe, and how he secretly was planning to enslave all the baby seals when they reached the ocean.
Dark Armin bundled himself in his blood-red cloak, and made dramatic whooshing noises between his teeth as he slunk back to his reading, for he had accidentally broken his combination whooshing and smoke machine when he was trying to extract the essence of happiness from a bouquet of dandelions. He took up his raven feather quill, and dipped it in ink of the darkest of black. He tapped his finger to his full, pouting lips in thought. With the baby seals enslaved, what would he put them to work doing? Idle flippers made for revolution, and Dark Armin just wasn't in the mood for crushing another uprising, after the baby panda incident.
Suddenly, Sir Jaeger and Sir Kirschstein burst through the door to Dark Armin's study. Dark Armin leaned back in his chair, stretching luxuriously.
"Sir knights," Dark Armin murmured huskily. He stretched out one leg, clad from toe to thigh in tight black leather. "How very kind of you to pay me a visit. Would you care for a cup of red, red wine?"
Sir Jaeger tore his eyes away from Dark Armin's thighs for a brief moment. "…uh…that's…visit for…"
Sir Jaeger trailed off, and his eyes wandered back to Dark Armin's thighs. Dark Armin's eyelashes fluttered as he faked a yawn, and rose to his feet, letting his cloak slither from his shoulders. His sequined black leather battle bikini twinkled dimly in the candlelight. He booty-walked over to his canopy bed, draped in the finest silken black sheets, and Sir Jaeger and Sir Kirschstein very nearly cannon-balled onto the bed to join him.
Lady Ackerman strolled into the room a few minutes later, and regarded the disgrace in front of her for a moment, polishing her sword absently. She shook her head, and left the room. She really had to stop letting those two come along on raids to this place.