It starts with the Furbies who come when the ‘King’ wish calls them. They bring pain, lots of pain. No matter the sort of man-king you had in mind, there is no substitute for the real deal, the King. The only way mere mortals can come to become the King is to be painfully regurgitated by the dreadful Furbies!
Once the Furbies are done with you, you will be able to bench press 600 pounds all by yourself and you will need every muscle because once you become DUKE NUKEM, the BABES will come!
Make of it what you can, the furbies made a mistake with you. You can only say these words: "It's good to be KING!" And you say them over, and over, and over....
Someone whispered to the BABES the HIStory should be HERstory and a shout goes up, "DOWN WITH THE KING!"
And you say, "It's good to be KING."
I wish we could grow our steaks in jars efficiently enough so that we wouldn't have to harvest them from our animals. Oh, and the steaks would be perfectly yummy and good to eat!
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