Fred walked into the throne room, still wearing his baggy shorts and red polo shirt, with his hairy legs and balding head, and he adjusted the glasses on his nose as he approached the throne.
Who are you? The young Emperor stared down at the strange creature, the type of which he had never seen before, although it did resemble one of those primitive mammals that some of the wealthier citizens kept as pets for amusement. Well, it was hairy anyway, and so naturally, to a lizard, everything with hair looked alike.
I am The Artist, Fred declared.
The artist? The Emperor consulted with his chancellor, an old and wise lizard standing next to the throne wearing a ridiculously oversized purple robe that complimented his shiny green head.
The chancellor looked at his hand-held computer terminal and pushed some buttons with his shiny green fingers with the neatly trimmed claws. No, Sire, there is no artwork scheduled to be commissioned this week.
The Emperor turned back to his guest. No, we dont need an artist this week. Are you sure you have the right planet?
Fred would not be so easily deterred. But I am not just any artist. I am The Artist! The greatest one in the galaxy.
Oh, said the Emperor, as the chancellor whispered something to him. You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.
With due cause, Fred bragged. I am known throughout the civilized galaxy for creating the most beautiful, the most true to life artworks in history.
Is that right? The Emperor questioned.
Giggling, the chancellor showed him something on the hand-held display screen.
The Emperor laughed.
Fred was taken aback. What is the meaning of your jovial mood?
We have performed a search on the galactic Internet, the Emperor explained, and have gotten some interesting results.
Oh yes? Fred looked at the chancellor suspiciously.
But it was the Emperor that spoke. It seems you are wanted by the Chipmunks, dead or alive.
Oh yes, that Fred tried to downplay the significance.
You failed to please the Emperor of the Chipmunks.
That fluffy-tailed pompous twit! Fred declared.
Indeed? The Emperor gave Fred a sly look. If you cant please a furry little bastard like the Chipmunk Emperor, then what makes you think you can please me, the Emperor of the great Orion Empire?
Fred had to admit, the lizard had a point. He had glaring yellow eyes too, but thats not why Fred decided to give up. I see my name is tarnished, so I have no choice but to go away for a while until this dark cloud passes.
The chancellor and the Emperor looked at each other. Do not trouble us with your cryptic poetry, the Emperor waved Fred away.
Two guards emerged from their posts next to the columns and stood by Fred, ready to toss him out forcefully if necessary.
But Fred took the hint, the sadistic yellow eyes of the two bulky lizards that were easily a foot taller than he. No need for brutality. Im leaving. He turned, adjusted his glasses again, and walked out through the large doors with only one more thing to mumble: That damn fluffy-tailed rat!
The Emperor and chancellor laughed. He was a strange one, the Emperor commented. And why does he take the shape of a hairy mammal?
The chancellor shrugged. Perhaps it is a disguise to keep the Chipmunks from finding him.
But Chipmunks can smell his true identity, surely? The Emperor pondered, but the chancellor had no time to reply, for yet another visitor interrupted them. This visitor was not escorted in by guards or even announced. He just walked right in. But he could do this, because he was someone important. He stopped in front of the throne and gave a special Orion salute to his Emperor. Sire!
The Emperor half-heartedly returned the salute. He immediately recognized the top commander of his great battle fleet, the most heroic general of the last thousand years of conquering less formidable enemies who didnt have the capability to defend themselves against an invasion of termites much less an Orion battle fleet. The general was old, made obvious by the cracking of his joints as he walked, and by the color of his skin. His scales were completely brown, like the last leaf on a tree at the end of winter. What is it general?
I have startling news, Sire.
Your news is always startling, general.
But this is of a grave situation!
Oh? Has your fleet obliterated yet another enemy fleet?
No, Sire. It is quite the opposite!
The Emperor considered this. You dont mean an enemy fleet has obliterated our fleet?
Not as severe as that, Sire.
The Emperor relaxed. Then what is the emergency?
They have destroyed one of our patrol ships!
Only one? The Emperor seemed disappointed.
Sire! This was an uncalled for attack on Orion!
So what do you want me to do about it? The Emperor rolled his yellow eyes at the general. Go blow up some of the enemy ships and tell them we are taking over their planet.
Under normal circumstances, Sire, I would.
Then why not now? The Emperor had more interesting things to do than to worry about the every day problems of his military. Thats what the general was there for.
The enemy vessel, Sire It was a Tekythian vessel!
The Emperor looked at the general blankly. Hold on a moment. He then consulted with his chancellor, for he had no idea what a Tekythian was. Whats a Tekythian?
But before the chancellor could look it up on the galactic Internet, the general provided them with further information. It was an Alliance battleship!
The Emperor knew immediately what that was. He looked at the general startled. Are you sure?
Of course I am!
The Emperor looked back at his chancellor. Oh dear. Does this mean well have to cancel the centennial celebration party?
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