Aboard the Blade Ship, inside of a small corridor an epic battle raged, two human lives hanging in delicate balance as they fought hand over hand to survive.
The more muscular of the two viciously threw out a fist at his smaller opponent who smiled confidently catching the fist in her open palm.
"Paper beats Rock," She breathed in relief. "YOU get to wake the Visser."
The man took a deep calming breath; they had agreed on best out of seven, she had won fair and square so there was only one thing left to do.
He took off, sprinting down the corridor, the young woman's shocked furious shouts following him.
Dishonorable, yes but alive, also yes. the man thought smugly for all of about seven seconds, until something collided with the small of his back and brought him crashing to the ground.
"No you don't!" the woman panted, scrambling to her feet and drawing her dracon beam, training it at him. "Get in there!"
Beaten and dejected, the man shuffled slowly back down the corridor until he came to the door of Visser's personal quarters.
Pausing he took a deep breath - the woman tensed, remembering what had happened last time— took another deep breath —she cranked the dracon beam up a few notches—and then without warning, the man fell to his knees and started bawling.
"What are you—" the lady began and the man grabbed her legs, a combination of snot and tears flowing thick and fast.
"He's going to kill me! He's going to kill me! No one's ever wakened the Visser and lived, no one!"
"Get off of me and get in there you big coward!" The woman snapped in disgust just as the door burst backwards to reveal an absolutely livid Visser Three.
«What vile creature woke me with that god-awful racket?» he bellowed, smacking his tail on the ground.
The man and the lady as well as the entire crew of the ship froze, several hearts skipped from between one-to-five beats and a terrified silence befell the ship.
Not even the ships propulsion systems dared to make a sound as Visser Three's stalk eyes slowly scanned the room, the man beginning to whimper as the narrowed eyes fell upon him, the lady wishing the man was not still clutching her legs not only because it was absolutely revolting but because she feared Visser Three, in his anger, might slice her down as well with his tail blade.
"Sir, you're going to be late for your meeting with the council!" The main squeaked in one terrified breath, pulling back as far as he could, closing his eyes tightly.
«Why didn't you wake me earlier!» Visser Three bellowed in alarm, his furious anger dissipating—the man breathed a sigh of relief too soon as the anger came back full force and Visser Three beheaded him with a vicious swipe of his tail.
«Clean that up.» Visser Three roared at the woman, who nodded shakily and hurried off to round up some Taxxons.
«Incompetent fools, I TOLD them...» Visser Three snarled, storming back into his quarters, hastily combing down his fur and applying conditioner.
«SOMEBODY BETTER BE MAKING ME SOME FOIÉ GRASS!»
A sudden clang of pots and pans told him that no, no one was making him his Foié grass and he threw the conditioner across his room, storming towards the kitchens.
The trembling chefs quickly hid the ingredients—no one had the courage to tell Visser three that Foié 'grass' wasn't what he thought'—as Visser Three stopped directly in front of one of the younger chefs.
«What do I eat for breakfast?» He said dangerously, all four eyes boring into the chef's.
His arm trembled so badly that the beaker of water he was carrying sloshed violently, threatening to spill all over the Visser.
A sense of self-preservation kicked in and his arm stopped trembling.
Visser Three eats whatever he please. The chef thought and smiled. It was perfect.
"Oatmeal." the chef nodded. Wait! Oh GOD no did he just say Oatmeal!
«Oh GOD did you just say oatmeal?» Visser Three roared, then roared again as the chef's arm started violently trembling, spilling cold water all over the fur he had just conditioned.
His tail blade cracked through the air, quivering to a stop just before the neck.
«I asked, what did you just say?» Visser Three repeated his voice full of maliciousness.
The chef wracked his brain furiously as his colleagues sympathetically continued cooking.
Oatmeal, not to be taken literally sir but as a metaphor that you are so strong and powerful that you can take on the impossible!
The flattery would work it had too!
"Instant Oatmeal." His mouth said, betraying him once again. "The Maple Ginger kind."
The Visser's stalk eyes widened looking just as surprised as the chef was.
«Instant Maple Ginger Oatmeal makes you insane!» Visser Three roared with rage, stomping his hooves and waving his arms to emphasis this rage.
«Are you trying to kill me, do you want me to die?»
"Yes." the man thought realizing his mouth would betray him by saying exactly what he didn't want.
"Yes." he told the Visser, his mouth realizing it had blown the past two times and was determined not to screw up this time.
Before he could even comprehend the fact that he had made yet another mistake, the chef's head went flying through the air.
Visser Three marched back towards his quarters, pausing momentarily as he passed a window noticing a cloud with an uncanny resemblance to a Gedd.
It was not the uncanny resemblance that caused Visser Three to pause though, it was the fact that the cloud was completely stationary.
This can not be happening! Visser Three muttered to himself.
«WHY IS THIS SHIP NOT MOVING!» He roared in disbelief. «I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!»
He galloped towards the cockpit and four squeals later, made good on his threat.
Chest heaving, he took hold of the controls and the ship shot off towards the meeting.
This had been an absolutely awful morning.
The sudden sharp smell of burnt Foié gras told him things had just gotten worse.