King Morrison

He stood before a crowd of thousands rising into waves and falling, and yet he never touched the earth but once in all his time. In his hand he held a weapon which though short was deadly to the kings of our new generations, and upon his body were the skins of the great hunters; the tanned flesh of mad beasts; a suit of shining armor which deflected death and drew his foes’ maiden daughters into his holy embrace. Inside this madness he roared and crowed, his ego showed and glowed, his voice became a golden spire and deadly arrow alike and his words the passions of the heart of mankind. And when the noise died to a buzz he crept forward, all muscles tense and ready, his tongue alight with still more fire, and to his waiting sons and daughters he spoke at last his name and power upon this simple earth.

“I am the lizard king,” he said aloud. “I can do anything.”