AN: Inspired by several writing prompts in a Tumblr blog I found: unblockingwritersblock.
"Dante must have missed a level or two because this," the prince emphasized what he was talking about by kicking him very hard. The people in the room winced as the prince aimed precisely on a critical area. The pained howl was probably heard by everyone in the palace. "Useless piece of shit managed to create another circle of torture."
"… Who's Dante?" one of the acolytes whispered, her companion shrugged. The prince must have heard them, because he turned to their direction and gave a sardonic smile.
"He's a character from a story," he explained, walking around the room and surveying the damage the priest crumpled on the floor had done. He frowned as he skimmed the messy notes on the man's desk. He let out a loud tsk as he poke and prodded the piles of scrolls and alchemy instruments on the floor. Some of them were stained with wine (and perhaps sauces from last night's roasted pig). "A man who journeyed through hell, a place where sinners are punished for all eternity—Seth's balls, even my father isn't this much of a slob."
Another acolyte winced as a rat jumped out of a pot and scurried away, passing between the prince's legs.
"There were nine levels of hell, each representing the major sin a person has committed," he continued, as if a rodent didn't pass by his feet. He took one peek at the pot and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Stagnancy, lust, greed, anger, violence, fraud, and treachery. We just discovered the tenth one: Good-for-nothingness."
On cue, one of the wooden shelves trembled and broke down, and with it, the numerous papyrus, jars of ink, several wineskins, and a ridiculous amount of pouches filled with dried blue lotus flowers. The prince's feet and ankles were stained with ink and alcohol, and some of the shriveled petals stuck on his clothes. He looked down at the current mess that was added to the nightmare of a room. He stared at it for a few seconds, then looked up and sighed.
Never had the servants been glad that the pharaoh and his son were known to be patient and benevolent compared to other kings, or other priests. It could have been High Priest Aknadin or High Priest Seth who found this mess. And there would have been a lot more crying and blubbering.
As it was, it was only the priest on the floor doing all the sobbing. Everyone in the room was just holding their breaths, wondering how long the young prince's patience will last.
"I am five minutes away from setting this man on fire," he announced cheerfully. "It's bad enough he nearly caused a declaration of war because of his stupid flabby fat mouth, but now I find out his room is a warzone in itself. How did this idiot get appointed as a priest?"
They asked the same question every time they met the man, but nobody had the high status to say it out loud without repercussions. They were glad the prince finally pointed it out, rather bluntly.
"How much blue lotus is in here?" he asked in disbelief, finding a trunk filled with the flowers, some more wine, and a bit of papyrus with smudged ink. "He's got enough to fly up and boldly go where no man has gone before! No need to beam me up, I'd be higher than a kite with all this!"
The prince always has very interesting phrases when he's angry.