In strange Elven lands Queen Elizabethy was just waking up from plastic surgery. Her hands trembled as she felt her face. Upon feeling nothing but bandages the Queen went to scream, but no sound played no matter how much force she applied. She felt her lips covered with thick threaded stitching, sewn together and fell back to bed in terror. The horrendous recovery process was reflected in every inch of the small room lined wall to wall in one mirror tile. Even the bed like it had first been poured in a mold. On seeing herself botched Elizabeth trembled shocked.

“I can’t feel my face,” she tried mumbling between the stitches but it went out the otherside gibberish.

Disoriented from the procedure and not yet fully recovered she accidentally slid off the smooth surfacing hitting her head and returning unconscious.

Meanwhile in the same city King Edward had got himself in hot water with the Elven authorities. For over twenty hours he hung from the dam above the rapids in a cliffhanger. It took at least that long for them to become bored of the spectacle, and his lawyers to show up on the scene and command the King be given assistance in getting lowered.

“You must be my lawyers?” asked Edward, smiling for the cameras as he disembarked.

He unhooked himself from a crane that brought him safely to the street.

“Yes we are, for if you have the capital then we can protect you better than any sword with our top notch legal expertise,” said one emerging out of the crowd of many doing the green salute representing elf law's top practice .

“Well isn’t that lawyer speech music to my cute little ears,” called Edward breaking into a rhythm dance waving his hook while stepping in time to the nearby music.

The crowd backed away a safe distance from the sharp hooked spectacle dancing to a tresillo triplet beat drifting over from a homeless looking dwarven street drummer hitting repurposed coffee containers for change. The swarming paparazzi snapped lots of annoying photos while chorus elves gathered round after spilling from a bus to see a human up close and personal in the flesh. There were more and more elves in the background incoming with promise of seeing the next phase from this drama-filled event.

“We are also waiting with bated breaths outside the plastic surgery clinic for word on what procedures the mother opted for, or did she consent to them? Dun dun dun,find out next after a long word from our sponsors” announced a newscaster elf on site.

“Leave her alone,” said Edward, lunging forward.

The crowd roughly pushed each other in panic, not being able to escape fast enough in the filled boardwalk.

“Oh carefoooof!” yelled the newscaster being thrown away like trash on the boardwalk.

The two lawyers first order of business was to take him right into a big bank in order to translate Edwards crystal to elf currency. The party was always being watched by what must have been millions of eyes but now from what seemed like a safe voyeuristic distance. Going forward he would be treated like royalty the entire process as raw crystal went just as far here as it did anywhere else on Tenare.

“Gentlemen I really do try to be the maddest of them all. You will serve me immorally as long as I pay?” confirmed Edward, winking at them.

“A clever ruthless ruler to keep your stockpile of crystal is what you must be in order to avoid the already much more mad ones behind the scenes who plot to take it all from you,” said the second lawyer, doing the same salute.

“Of course remember we being a different species don’t even consider the same morals, but let's be real it's time for payday,” they announced together.

He threw bags of coins at their feet. They all began to dance a celebratory dance in their fancy tailored suits: one foot left, one right, then the space slide. The street echoed with the sounds of a tuba and some other weird thing joining in.

The “Roomy Vista” was the nicest elf hotel for foreigners. It towered on the edge of the city built above a big rock, and to resemble human stone castle designs. Human servants worked the lobby, and all labor except janitors to complete the illusion (custodian duties found themselves done by goblins).

A swarm of servants dashed in frantically carrying bag after bag of freshly purchased clothing. Edward pranced in behind them wearing a new mink coat, fancy jewels, and his sunglasses indoors. There was flashing as giddy elf scholars snapped photos, while a stripper worked her magic. Behind them a sign had been hastily hung welcoming "the new human king". Confetti popped slowly drifting by his head.

"Anything else you desire, King?" asked the goblin looking person behind the front desk.

"Yeah I'm emperor now.. I want a room service feast prepared, and I'm feeling like some long aged jungle juice for a change instead of schlock," he ordered.

She took notes. Edward began to walk away before turning at the last moment.

"Oh I almost forgot, can you have someone grab my mummy from the plastic surgery clinic where they got her wrapped up. I don't want her staying here around me though… HEY lawyer #2 book the second nicest hotel for her," instructed Edward, dropping more cash at his feet.

"Yes king," said his servants, scuttling to perform the tasks he had paid for.

On top of the hotel the executive suite was the entire floor. The party raged into the night. Edward didn't hold petty grudges, and soon all those who had laughed at his cliffhanger endeavor found themselves plastered. A specially requested Emperor's bed had been carried in by cutting out a wall. The bed was big enough to fit 100 bodies onboard.

Servers interrupted by wheeling a special feasting tray six feet long into the room at midnight.

"The chef's special is here" said the servant in front, tired from wheeling.

"Hide that body of meat in the back just for me," said Edward slurping from the single bottle of jungle juice in the building.

He sat far from single in a steaming hot tube nude, surrounding him was a diverse harem made up of many cultures.

"Tomorrow I have to get back to leadership, but tonight we party!" He yelled as the groupies cheered.

The hot tube relaxed as a Bootlicker came up from sucking to the surface. A strange type of hipster jazz started being played by an all Elf band on the balcony outside. Edward scrambled to the side, spilling his juice in the process.

"Hey turn that tune up, it rages really hard," he yelled, slurring his speech.

The next morning a fresh dusting of white powder found itself on his face. He went from the saloon to a salon full of servants, one placed on the king’s wig, while another clipped toenails below the barber chair. Edward shaved himself with his lubed hook intensely focused on his own reflection in the mirror. He had partied all night without a second of sleep, and now was focused on cleaning off some of the accumulated grime.

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“The only downside to my brief stay in this Elf paradise is that I am not staying long enough to really get to know my meat before I play with it” Edward Longbottom mused to himself.

The human servant behind him had sprayed a mist of hair product before rubbing it into the scalp. The other finished with the clipping of the toenails, before trembling she took a tiny file to the king’s only remaining hand.

“I’ve done a lot of killing recently, so much of it I haven’t had moments to truly let my guard down in order to intimately love,” Edward blurted out.

He hooked himself around a nearby barber pole hanging on the wall. It began to bend.

“Ahham I may have lost my mojo with this deadly attachment making me too edgy to attract mates,” he sighed

“Done with the shaving lord?” asked the barber behind.

A skinny older man, with tomato red cheeks, and ears was the one servicing him.

“Might I also suggest a different hand attachment for social settings, for example a fake hand to be able to dance with a partner,” suggested the barber.

“Yes perfect, you may apply moisturizer to my face, '' instructed Edward.

“I'll get it,” said the young assistant girl running off.

Edward looked at her petite behind like a coyote at roadkill in the dead of winter. He smiled and his eyes twinkled with glee.

“You people must have no common sense leaving a little Bo Peep around a wolf like that,” he said, licking his lips.

“I would hope by time a man becomes emperor he has long grown bored of easy sport, as well as not being into the poaching of little lambs. It is a very poor honor for any leader to be seen engaged in,” scolded the barber.

“True, I never even considered it a second. You see, a buck like myself only ruts after the strongest trees to scrape, bend, and break with my antlers in the quest for achievements," said Edward, as he twirled his hook around the nearby barber-pole.

"The true challenge is to dominate my prey from every angle. I need at least a dozen warrior women, and one or two men fighting over me at once, all of them hooked by my love. This is how I feel alive,”

“I see,”

“This is what makes the healthiest love life according to top studies, but I'm always experimenting with adding more things like elves,” said Emperor Edward.

He was fully reclined in the chair by the barber. The first order of Empire business was going to be abolishing anything suggesting it had ever been a kingdom, next tossing the limiting marriage laws that limited his personal development of assembling the biggest, and most diverse harem of all time. And finally to have the best war performance he would need to get right back in the saddle when it came to training night and day in the knight's way of close quarters combat, cardio training and meditation. Edward had realized that ultimate power in an individual never truly flexed its muscles until the owner was a fully realized and disciplined individual with the stamina to complete long term planning and the proper execution of plots.

His personal goal was to become the ultimate cult of personality of a warrior cross bred with a cult leader on a never before seen mission. His ambitions take shape in pictures of clear reality in his mind. He had seen the destined future of statues and hero worship of himself that he would set in motion. Every Emperor needs a legend, but it all starts with a rock solid base to build a lasting legacy of propaganda that can last forever.

That all being stated every ruler truly needed his advisers to vent too. Unfortunately Elves detested the human practice of fooling around, and thus all clowns found themselves banned in these lands. He was stuck with his lawyers who had discovered even when drunk on schlock were only capable of slurring advice in their foreign tongues of legal speech.

“Ahh I truly need a professional jester to advise me, Snaggy was the only thing that ever held my mothers stitches together most times” he sighed.

“That a shame lord, but with me being a master barber I have just as good an ear as any fool on both sides of my head,” said the barber.

The girl had returned carrying a large tube stamped “premium olive oil”. She removed a small screwdriver and started prying under the lid unsuccessfully. Edward waved his hook coming down. She fell back, with her hairs standing up frightened.

“I can manage to open my moisturizer honey now get lost before you lose yourself around me,” he said, smashing into the barrel with his sharpened crystal cutter.

His spit had flown in her direction and she scampered off. The barber put his hands into the opened lid that was still hooked before massaging them onto the king's face.

“Anyway what I have really truly so long desired is to bag a long matured Elf spouse older than I before I die. For with years of experience on their part comes an added difficulty challenge level of manipulation skill needed by me. Any tips?” asked the man getting rubbed on his large nose, then forehead.

“You have a very hard quest in that case as I don’t think it has been achieved by a few extremely rare humans throughout the centuries,” laughed the barber.

“Tell me more, will I be one of a kind if I can do it?” asked Edward, his chair giving a protesting squeak as it slowly raised.

“Elves have a very secretive, very exclusive society for the majority, and the first rule is full Elf blood only. No matter the hoops you jump through, the door was already blocked to you at birth” said the barber.

He rubbed his hands together, standing up from his stool. He headed to the door with the barrel of olive oil slung under his shoulder leaving the king alone.

Being alone with his thoughts wasn’t a foreign concept to the former prince thrown to the wolves as a child. No point trying to woo an Elf. I’ll simply cheat by finding myself a kidnapping victim that I fancy nabbing, he thought resting his face on his fist. He stared deep into his fine mirrored reflection. The hook represented his violent blemish, while his once famously boyish features had begun to carry themselves with a newfound maturity from experience cutting down others. He stood putting a shirt over a previously bare chest that had similar amounts of hair to other primates. From the coats pocket he removed the royal diary noting:

“I should prove my insecurities about mostly killing the defenseless by doing something dumb in battle. Also put in order for a finely sculpted hand to screw in place of my hook on royal occasions. This is for when very fine verbal hooks are the diplomatic tool that is required”.

On the next page:

"Since returning from the core I have discovered in myself that I have become utterly dissatisfied with my current relationships. I must reinvent my personality to something that my lovers will treat as a godly deity to be worshiped. I must connect on a deeper level than I ever have before in order to best harvest flesh when the time comes. My band will also have to reform to tour again this time bringing war with it to every destination we concert".

Edward walked out the building putting on his vision crystal modified sunglasses. Across the bright street servants hauled trash to the curb.

"Timber!" yelled from above, as the King’s king size mattress crashed, and sprung on impact.

Edward climbed aboard his purring magma-cycle. The knights were already waiting on their iron steeds. They formed a formation riding out of the Elf city as the royal rock N roll loudly played to screaming.

Meanwhile on the other side of the planet Snaggy found himself sweating. He was stuck swatting away bloodsucking bugs in a remote region managing the kingdom's timber reserves. He exited the log cabin bunk house that he and his group of traveling companions were lodging. Rows of the bunkhouses for the woodcutters dotted the clearing all around him. A hundred stoves leaving little trails of smoke leaking into the sky. Down the way a train being loaded spat out fat clouds of soot.

It was true that directed teleportation was fascinating technology instead of the random crapshoot the fools had long read in their scrolls.The shipping volume still had nothing on the train though it just looked flashy and was the only way to reach the royal outpost that she refused to accept was inhabitable. Meanwhile the kingdom above ground where everyone lived was falling apart.

The first thing that desperately needed to be completed was the rail system that ran the lands like veins supplying the countryside with needed nutrients along the path. The fool stood still adjusting the brim of his royal jester cap. From a distance he watched a swarm of men all doing their own small tasks in order to load the train with timber. The loud blasts of the horn in the early morning had woken the monkeys early who screamed at the top of their lungs throughout the jungle pissed off.

Snaggy walked around his parked clown car that his posse had all traveled here together in. He continued walking along a road beside the tracks whistling a nursery rhyme to himself. He was heading to the rear where the last six train cars had been packed with lock boxes stacked the night before. A massive load of gold currently heavily guarded by knights. The empire had tried to keep its mining here where the dwarfs once had a secret. The word had quickly spread about the operation long before it had even started.

Gold shone very sexily on everything it coated. It had also been discovered that when fused together with various crystal stones they provided a killer combination of alchemist attack. The soldiers guarding the load had already been equipped with gold tipped shock spears conducting themselves. Snaggy waved at the general in charge who nodded an affirmation of his existence. The Queen was never giving him any time off when it came to snitching on any corruption. Here he had discovered nothing but boredom, and soon he and the other clowns would certainly find the same at their next destination.