As Azula wandered through the halls, she soon stumbled upon the kitchen. Her famished stomach moaned painfully as the smell of freshly baked bread and other food tunneled deep into her nose.
"I want to leave this asylum." Azula said as she clutched her stomach, "But even I need food once in awhile."
The chef shivered in fear as Azula stared coldly into his eyes. It had been weeks since she last saw the expression of fear coming from another person.
"Please don't hurt me." he said.
"You have no power over whatever I do to you." Azula hissed threateningly, "However since you are the chef of this dump, I order you to surrender all of your food to me."
"But...the others need it too." he said; unaware of the line he was crossing.
"Tell me something, lowly chef." Azula said as she taunted him, "Are the other inmates Fire Nation royalty?"
"No, but..." the chef said.
"Are the other inmates capable of delivering harsh, agonizing violence?" she asked him.
"No..." he said.
"Are the other inmates only INCHES from ending your pitiful life in a matter of seconds?" she asked.
"No, of course not." he said.
"Good." she said, "Now do as your ruler says. Bring me food!"
Obeying his new mistress's commands, the chef began to fetch her some food. When he came back, he had enough food that was...
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