A/N: Hi! I wrote this on a plane to Vietnam, so if it sounds as if I was venting my frustration onto SK, it probably is. And if it seems stupid, it probably is as well. I was on a plane for Bob knows how long!

Disclaimer: Like I think about this on a plane...

Free Publicity

There was a knock at the door. This came as a great shock to everyone, because most people would not think to, dare to or even know how to knock on the door. Usually, to knock on the door of the Citadel of Bone meant you were probably lacking in intelligence, good sense, sanity, or all three. Anyone that did knock was probably a madman, a fool, a nosy reporter or Sakko on one of those times he forgot the key and didn't remember Mandarin's password for the day (not remembering Mandarin's daily password was a very stupid thing to do, because the plasma guns don't like you if you don't remember the password).

Skeleton King, having had a coffee that morning and was actually willing to be useful and do some work around the place he called a house, walked around cluelessly for a while, attempting to find the door. Having at last located it, he opened it to find a man in a suit with slicked back hair standing outside.

"Good morning Mr King, I'm sorry for the intrusion, but would you mind answering a few questions for me?"

SK opened his mouth in shock for a moment. He'd only managed to catch two or three words of the man's speech. What rate did he talk at, five words a second?! Skeleton King didn't get the opportunity to answer the man's first question before he was bombarded by a hideous onslaught of many, many more.

"Witnesses have unanimously claimed that you vowed that, 'When all is fire and brimstone, and the world howls like a rabid beast, the universe will be mine!'" the man cackled, a dead ringer impression of Skeleton King. "Or yours, rather." he continued. "You've unleashed an ice monster on the city, and yet a creature of fire has never been sighted, nor the ground howling ever reported. How do you answer to these speculations?"

Skeleton King blinked and uttered a single syllable, and it wasn't even a proper word. "Huh?"

The man had pulled out a notebook from his jacket pocket and scribbled this measly three-letter syllable down.

Oh no, Skeleton King thought worriedly. A journalist. This could be a while. Aw. I was planning to watch that game show this morning.

The journalist looked up again. "Now, you made another vow a while ago. You claim that the undead shall devour all the citizens of Shuggazoom City. But since this statement, no one in Shuggazoom has been eaten, by an undead entity or otherwise. How do you reply?" The young man said this all in an excited frenzy, his eyes wide and glistening.

"Oh, for pity's sake!" the skeletal lord moaned. "Would you get off my back already! Who is remembering this stuff anyway?!"

The journalist raised his voice to be heard. "Would you give me one more moment?" He looked down quickly at his notes. "You claimed to be found wherever the Chosen One's fear was. And yet that night when the Monkey Team each met their worst fears, you, Skeleton King, were nowhere to be found, on or near the scene. How do you respond?"

Skeleton King blinked, then gulped slowly.

"I was on vacation!" Skeleton King finally roared. "Or rather, I will be. You contacted my future self, didn't you? Lousy bugger. Now if you don't mind-" SK slammed his door, achieving silence and privacy at last. He walked back into the core of the Citadel, where he met Mandarin, Sakko and some cold eggs.

Mandarin looked up from his breakfast. "Where you been?"

Skeleton King slumped in front of his eggs. "It was a journalist. Who knows which newspaper that'll end up in." he groaned.

"Aw, it's not as bad as a current affairs show crew. They're the ones you have to be wary of. Last week a group of magazine reporters called me." Sakko put down his fork. "I mean, what's wrong with purple stilettos? Not everyone has taste like those fashion magazines these days. They're just so inflexible and stereotypical, don't you think?" After a considerable silence in the room, Sakko huffed and resumed eating.

Mandarin spoke. "I think the very same magazine people came yesterday to take photos of me. They said orange was the new in colour now or something weird like that. As well as the neutral colours and organic look." The monkey gestured to his bone covering.

Sakko refused profusely to talk for the rest of the meal.

Kay, I'm doing this at a relative's house (one that I didn't even know existed) and their modem's plugged into this cruddy painfully slow laptop... So I gotta hurry. R&R PLEASE, I'm going insane over here. For the love of Bob, how does my profile know I'm in Vietnam?