“Sit.”

He looked like this:

But it wasn't the first time he'd thought, no maybe he didn't look like this at all.

Phinz-Twoan, the Cyclops, followed Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz, Demonlord, around like a part of him. Like a supernatural external appendage; organ, or gland, which was exactly what he was. As essential to any other person who was blessed/cursed, to have, such a thing - to be attached to such a thing. To have one. Pheel had thought his simple human brain – vat-bred or otherwise – was, sometimes, one.

But this was ego, maybe, or connected to a train of thought he followed in his manic periods which were often but unfortunately, despite the flowering resentment palpitating in his chest, not now – it would have been somewhat, of a, help, at least in terms of any back and forth veiled aggressive verbal persiflage which could occur with an entity as specifically massive as Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz. Another thing. Massive. – Not just physically in terms of what he wanted out of the world, but physically, and right there, in your face, at least, and not the first time he suspected this, in the way that Phinz-Twoan regarded him.

A thing he had no response for.

If he wasn't exactly manic right now, he wasn't exactly not manic either. - He had a disappointing inkling this could only result in an inadequate verbal performance, in terms of any contretemps, the same time scuttling anything like a clear logical thinking process. Over there in his head on his neck.

Phinz-Twoan regarded Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz, standing by his desk, intentionally in the only position that, could look, to an outside observer – who would that be – anyone not paying attention – who would that be? - to anyone anyway trying not to see that it was Phinz-Twoan really making it look as if the Demonlord was there and looking exactly the way he did at the same time having the deniability to say, no - he was only looking at the desk the way he was, because the desk was pretty complex too.

Beside the objects that Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz had scattered around somewhat willy nilly over it - it was a scale model of the rest of the place - objects required by him in the execution, he thought, of whatever it was that his job was. Or maybe just in. That was. An execution. Also paper. An execution of balls.

And a little Pheel Cazzo. And ten Cyclops. Three seeing the top section, stairways that went nowhere and waterfalls likewise, and earth statues a little too animate looking, flowers that were simultaneously perhaps men, anyway a little too animate looking, a little too much like the bodies of beings who – a lot of folds of weird flesh involved there too – okay, just say it, walking folded over, pink vaginal flower men, obviously. These were abundant in the middle section, paused in the moment of, producing demonic gases that, they weren't paused they were just impossibly slow, impossibly slow... approaching... toward him.

The desk showed this too and the three Cyclops in the middle section, where they were. They were in the middle of the middle section and Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz, said, “Sit.” Beside them. You had Phinz-Twoan. 3 Cyclops up top and 3 below.

It was a confusing place; but beside miniaturizing the whole place out in the disconcerting desk, Phinz-Twoan, had Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz look exactly like -

But it wasn't that Phinz-Twoan made him look that way because otherwise he was unimpressive, otherwise he was only a bureaucrat made to look imposing by, he didn't know, tricks of light or a seat higher than anybody else. There was something else that was brought out of Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz; by the way in which Phinz-Twoan – it wasn't even just the true self brought fourth out of what was an unimposing physical presence or visage, it was not this at all.

- He did have a supernatural organ!

It was the part that connected him to the place wherever you got stories at. Stories, functional, true enough, even if these scumbags made him bastardise them - to get this shit to function at all - because they were real. Because they were entirely real. And this reality was what they needed. Because over here, this was the thing, quantities of which, they had a decided lack.

This:

He was massive, he was massive enough. He was massive, exactly massive, also he looked exactly like in fact in many ways what he was.

An evil King.