The end (of everything)

The invasion of, well, everything, was going flawlessly. Armies marched and the world went up in flame, all under the guiding hand of the blood mage. But even hell spawn needs to rest, so he and his two close servants was currently relaxing in the castle, sipping brandy. Or rather, the blood mage drank brandy. Marrow didn't drink since it would only stain the chair he sat in, and the demon drank something from a tankard that gave off a dark smoke, which corroded the ceiling.

"So, how did your date go, Marrow?" asked the blood mage.

"Great. I like a woman with big bones" Marrow said cheerfully.

"Hah. That's not what you should look for in a woman" the demon sneered.

"How do you like your women then?"

"Juicy!"

Marrow sighed. "Do you always think about food?"

"No. In fact, during our conversation I have thought of three new ways to torture you."

"How? I'm a skeleton!"

"How does a pack of wild dogs sound?"

"As amusing as it is listening to this," the blood mage shot in, "I would like to know why we are waiting here."

"I thought you would like to be here for the last hero" Marrow said, trying to keep his mind off dogs. "He should be arriving any minute… Oh, here he is…"

The doors slammed open, and a warrior strode in. He had a shiny sword, and a majestic cape that swept the floor. Chain mail hung about him.

It would have been very impressive if he had had more body to go between these things. You got the impression that if he hadn't been a wiry little man with pimples, he could have been almost impressive.

"I have come to challenge thee, blood mage!"

"Really?" the blood mage asked, trying to keep a straight face. "You and what kindergarten class?"           

"You are a spawn of the Hells!" the hero went on, ignoring this.

"I sure hope not, because then I'd be pink now…"

"You don't have any fair maidens here, do you?" Asked the hero hopefully.

"Well, Marrow?" said the blood mage.

"Since we didn't have any use for them any more, I sacked them."

"Sensible thinking."

"And then threw the sacks to the Hell hounds."

"Good, good. Err… Why the sacks?"

"The vet said they needed more fibre."

"He did?"

"Well, what he actually said was: helppleasenononoletmeouARRG!, but I think that's what he meant."

The blood mage nodded, and turned back to the crestfallen hero. "No, I am afraid we don't have any fair maidens here."

"Well, then I shall fight thee to the death!"

"So if I did have some fair maidens, would you only fight me until I was sorry?"

"Pardon?"

"Never mind. What makes you so sure you will win?"

"Everyone knows the hero always wins!"

"And if I don't let you win?"

The hero stepped smartly aside and revealed a man even shorter than himself. He was wearing a black suit and had a hawk nose. He gave the impression of being dry as a piece of rock.

"Then we will sue you for every penny you own" he said carefully.

The blood mage looked at Marrow, who mouthed 'lawyer'. The mage nodded.

"And our politically correct and open-minded army is fighting your henchmen even now" the lawyer added.

"Wait a second, let me get this straight" said the demon carefully. "If you win, the old system with lawyers and bureaucracy return, but if we win, the blood mage rule supreme and no one cant touch us."

"Well, yes" said the lawyer, shifting nervously. The demon turned to the blood mage.

"May I?"

"Please do."

The demon stepped forward. There were several minutes of impressive movements, some of which aren't anatomically possible. The demon stepped back, picking a piece of lawyer from his teeth.

"Impressive."

"Thank you. But I should change my diet, all these lawyers give me gas."

"No one can massacre quite like you, demon."

"Its all in the hips."

The blood mage walked back to his chair, a squelching sound coming with each step.

"The worst thing about heroes is that you can't get them out of the carpet" he remarked.

Marrow was looking at the hero's sword. It was a short sword, and somehow it had managed to get stuck in a chair. The strange part was that it was stuck under the chair, so that two inches of blade was sticking up into the seat, hidden by the cushion. Anyone sitting down there would get a very unpleasant surprise.

"What do you want me to do with this, master?"

"Leave it. It'll be one of those conversation pieces."

A couple of flies, probably attracted by the blood, but you never know with flies, flew over the demons drink. As they touched the smoke, they dropped into the tankard, where they promptly dissolved.

"What do you think happened to his army?" Marrow asked.

"Oh, I'm sure the guards have dealt with them."

The guard was in fact having a bad time. "So you are the resistance?"

"Yes" said the man in front of the crowd. "We fight for the betterment of mankind, womankind and small angry rodents!"

The guard lifted an eyebrow. "Rodents?"

"Yeah, you know, gerbils and that. The Animal Rights League insisted."

The crowd behind him started to wave their pitchforks and torches in an approved mob fashion."

"Even now our hero (hired from the Hero's guild at standard fee, you may check his contract) is fighting your lord. So will you give in willingly, or do we have to report you to the EMU?"

The guard looked blank. "So the choice is between betraying the dark lord, slayer of thousands, nay, tens of thousands, guardian of dark powers, or being reported to a soon-to-be-gone workers union?"

"That's right!" Even as he said it, the leader felt a twinge of doubt.

"Let loose the Hell Hound's guys."

The guards leaned back as the Hell Hounds massacred the resistance.

"You know, I think those things are getting fat."

"True, but they don't have a problem with indigestion."

"Probably all those sacks."

"So I have won," said the blood mage.

Marrow nodded. The resistance, who had tried fighting by committee, was gone. The hero was currently a stain on the carpet, the walls and the ceiling, the countries of the world was covered in darkness.

"I have done it! I, greatest of blood mages have taken the world with my iron fist, covering it in eternal darkness. Generations from now, people will look up from their slavery and up to the uncaring heavens, saying what the Hell is that badger doing in here!"

This was probably directed at the small badger sleeping in his chair.

"It most have slipped out of Hell." The demon said. "Let it lie."

"Yes, I've been wondering about that. Why are there so many badgers in Hell?"

The demon told him.

"That makes sense I suppose," said the blood mage. A thought seemed to strike him. "Can you really do that with a cucumber?"

"I you tie up the frogs and cover the sheep in mustard, I can't see a problem with it."

"Remarkable!"

"So how does it feel to rule the world?"

"Great. Its fun to be almighty. And the best part is: I will never be made a fool again" he said, sitting down in the chair with the sword in it.

THE END.

(A/N) Well, that concludes this story.

And to all my faithful readers: Despair not, for if I get enough reviews, I just might make a sequel. You've seen how the dark lord came to power; see him be overthrown by a hero.

But what to call it? 'Lord of the badgers'? 'The cliché mage'? Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated.