“People, let me tell you that this is a glorious and wonderful day for our glorious kingdom! For no-” He said, but a man from the small crowd below bellowed out in a hardened voice,
“Can’t you think of any description other than glorious? Try great, or beautiful...or don’t, because our kingdom looks terrible.”
The man stuttered, then continued his speech as the man was whisked away by the guards.
“Ahem. So anyways; For now we have this ship! It is to be our nation’s flagship, and forever it shall make our foes fear us, for we shall be a great military power!” Omar put emphasis on this last part, trying to burn it into the conscience of his men and women. He’d spent the greater half of his life as king, and had always stayed determined to make his followers love him. The problem was, though by no fault of him, that he was a terrible king. So awful was he in fact, that almost as soon as he’d taken power the unemployment rate went up from 5% to 17%.
“How did we afford this ship sire? We don’t even have enough to feed all the men bread, so how did we make a glorious ship that’s probably worth more than the entire rest of the kingdom combined?” Another random voice in the crowd bellowed.
Omar hadn’t been the greatest king, but he was proud of his military. It ranked in the top 25 militaries in the galaxy in the previous year, which was unheard of for a small desert nation that, quite frankly, had nothing but sand and incompetent people to use for the job.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Spiderman leapt from the shadows,
“I do think that you’re unfair to this man. He isn’t THAT bad. I mean, he is smelly, and stupid, and inbred, and-” He spat out, before being cut off by Omar,
“You’re not helping!” Omar said quietly to Spiderman.
“-But at least he isn’t a camel!” Concluded Spiderman, and with that, two things happened.
Firstly, about half the crowd got up, left, and wept that they had to live such awful lives, under such an awful king. Secondly, the other half began cheering wildly, for they were all drunk. You see, the people of this kingdom loved but two things...cold beer, and warm brew.
“I SAY, WE SHOULD GO KILL THOSE DAMNED SANTARS!” One of the drunken men shouted. Of course, the Santars were among the most powerful nations in the galaxy, and could crush this desert nation of 500 thousand like Godzilla crushing an ant. But, a mans mind changed once he drunk the warm brew of the desert nation, that, and well, he was probably stupid to begin with.
Either way, Omar caught up with Spiderman as he was leaving, for he wanted to ask him why he’d come to the rescue of this poor desert king.
“Because everybody gets one.” Replied the Spider-man hybrid before swinging a web back to some unknown tropical paradise in which everybody danced and surfed all day, Hawaii, basically. The kingdom of Omar though did not enjoy these recreational activities, but instead could only play stupid Volleyball, because that’s all there really was to do with the sand and all. Anyway, people went back to their stations, and Omar went back to his palace, to say hello to his ugly wife. Who he married only because she was slightly less ugly than the others in his kingdom.