Director: Ten seconds, Mister Kazz.


Kazz: That's Emporer Kazz.


Director: Got it. All cameras focused and ready?


(General agreement from the camera crew.)


Director: Okay, switching to prose.


The prose operators turned their little dials on their machines and caused the story to revert to standard prose form. The director wished everybody good luck, then signaled to Kazz that there were three seconds, two seconds, one second...


* Turn 1 * Kazz took a puff on his lonesome cigar. It was a lonesome cigar ever since he took it from his box of other cigars, who were not so lonesome. They shouldn't have been lonesome for two reasons: They were with a whole bunch of other cigars, and cigars have no emotions. However, Kazz referred to his cigar as a lonesome cigar, because he liked to anthropomorphize things. He leaned back in his cheerful chair and put a paw on his dutiful intercom.


"Bev?" he asked.


"Yeah?" replied Beverly, his secretary. "How go things?"


"Things go, Kazz. Saskatchewan has been quiet lately, which is good. Ghazporkio just blew up another continent on Pootworm, at least a hundred thousand pimps dead. Fur coats, feathered hats, and gold chains everywhere, it's not a pretty sight."


"What'd they use?"


"I'm pretty sure they sacrificed a few hundred Hrungian virgins to Ghazpork, who whipped out his Godly member, and slapped Pootworm with it."


"Ah, the otherworldly bismarck. Remind me not to piss of the Ghazporkians."


"Sure thing, Kazz."


"Anything else, Bev?"


"Well, one thing." Beverly got a sort of tone in her voice that displayed that she was much less concerned with the galaxy at this point.


"And what's that?"


"I'm not wearing panties." If Kazz has eyebrows, one of them would have been raised. A grin spread on his bucktoothed face.


* End Turn 1 * - Kazz