A/N: Written with Ember Nickel, fellow FFN writer.
"Come my servant!" Crayak hissed from the shadows.
"I don't know who you're calling servant," Visser Three snapped, the arm muscles on his human morph rippling. "...but I've had enough with your secrecy. Just tell me what you want."
"Little one, you do not know who you are talking to. I am the master of evil, not you. I am the one who made you what you are. But if you insist..." Crayak began, then barked an order. Suddenly two bursts of flames appeared, revealing a gold throne with a shadowy figure seated on it. At this point, dramatic music began to play in the background. "Your duty to me is to fight the Andalite bandits in a game of football. Flag football. And you will win or you will die. Do you understand me?" Crayak threatened.
"You don't scare me," the burly human answered.
"That is foolish. But still... here are the rules. Then take your insolent self from my sight," The figure commanded, snapping his fingers. The dramatic music and fires instantly went out.
Sneering, Visser Three scooped up the rule book and began to scheme on how he could kill the so-called Andalite bandits during the game. He began to plan...
As Visser Three left the room, a spotlight that had been focused on him turned off, leaving the room pitch black.