Loyal
. <strike>slaves</strike>
. <strike>weakling masses</strike>
. <strike>puny cogs in my invincible machine of world domination and death</strike>
. stoat-citizens, the day of our ultimate glory is at hand. The Death Stoat Battlestation, the most powerful weapon the stoativerse has ever known, is all but complete.
Our stoat-armies stand ready to do battle, to sweep into neighboring lands and claim them for the Glorius Stoat-Empire!
My latest invention, the Dimensional Blasteray™, will give us the supreme tactical advantage of being able to knock our enemies away in directions at right angles to reality. I have constructed a hand-portable prototype as we speak...
But our victory is not yet complete. There are still divisive elements among us, an underground movement that seeks to undo all we have accomplished, with our stoat-sweat, blood (quite a lot of that one, actually), and tears. Or rather,
your stoat-sweat, blood and tears. I've been lounging around perfectly safe in my air-conditioned Fortress of stoat-doom since the coup, myself. But I digress. These terrorists, under the command of the exiled former leadership of Stoatopia, the so-called "
Moderate
s", have
sworn revenge against our Empire. They have
threatened to commit genocide upon our people in time for the fall fashion season. They have tried to demoralize our troops by spreading obscene
images of
totally freaky shit, man. But worst of all, they HAVE ATTEMPTED TO CORRECT THE EMPEROR'S GRAMMAR!
To eliminate this threat, I have decided that the psychological will of the resistance must be broken. As such, I hereby challenge their greatest champion, the one called
Michael, to a duel on the surface of the Death Stoat. It will be a duel not only of lightsabers (or whatever equivalent this "Michael" may possess- I can't be bothered to equip my enemies), but also of the magical stoat-force, which enables us to create illusions and mind-spells that confuse and enrage our enemy and any onlookers alike. Let the final battle begin!