Spoiler! :
"Sir, I was thinking – more like wondering, really – um, do you think it would be wise for me to leave out the part where you blew up the planet of Lalaxus?”
The Great and Mighty Emperor Trax, who was pacing about the grand, expansive throne room with his hands behind his back, suddenly turned his head towards Leonard. His red, slitted eyes narrowed upon the writer, anger swimming about within their irises.
“What suggest you, Earthling Nebb?” His voice was cold and impatient.
“Well,” said Leonard, pushing his glasses back up to the tip of his nose. “Being your, um, official biographer and all, it seems to me that we would want to omit some particularly...um, let's say more excessive acts of mass murder and violence from the volume?”
“Fool! The Lalaxusians were monsters! Left to their own devices, they would have ripped entire worlds asunder with their foul machinations and wicked intents!”
“Um, sir, correct me if I was mistaken, but wasn't Lalaxus populated entirely by penguins and rabbits? I'm just saying that – ”
“No more, Earthling Nebb!” Trax's voice echoed in a lion-like roar. Leonard sank into his seat,
“Yes, sir,” he said, wondering how he had ever gotten into this mess.
But he knew. Of course, he knew. This strange, horrid little destiny had been thrust upon without any question or thanks. Abducted in the middle of brunch, shot across light-years, he had been ripped from his small little house in small little nowhere. Now here he was, in a strange castle nestled in a blood-red canyon on Mars, billions of miles away from everything he once knew, and for what? Why, to serve as the official Biographer of the Great and Mighty Emperor Trax, of course.
According to the Emperor Himself, Leonard was the most well-respected writer in the most culturally rich planet in the northern Cosmos. It only made sense that he would be given the great honor of chronicling the Emperor's rise to power.
“Now,” said Trax, his temper cooling. “A joke! What has two legs, two arms, and smells like bacon?”
Leonard had to stop himself from sighing.
“I don't know, sir,” said Leonard resignedly.
“A baby whose been boiled alive, of course!” Trax outstretched his arms and howled with laughter.
“Wonderful, sir,” said Leonard dryly. “Your best one yet.”
“Add that to the appendix,” said Trax, still smiling. “Why, yes, that will make a nice addition, indeed!”
“Quite, nice, sir.”
“Ah, how wise I am, Earthling Nebb. For have I not hired the best writer in all of creation, your sole duty to record my life and the sparkling jokes with which I pepper it!”
“Indeed sir.”
But the joke was on Trax. Leonard Nebb was not a famous writer, not even a published author. The dirty fact of the matter was that the Official Biographer of the Great and Mighty Emperor Trax had never sold a single scrap of work in his life. Of course, couldn't let Trax know that.
“You know, Earthling Nebb,” said Trax in a softer voice than Leonard had thought the alien capable of. “I quite enjoy our little chats. I, the greatest figure ever to conquer the Universe, and you, the one who will make sure that everyone knows the story! How very, very clever I am!”
“Yes, indeed sir,” said Leonard automatically. “Clever, clever, that's your middle name, sir.”
“Ah, and to hear you say it brings a shiver of pride up my spines!” Trax straightened himself and breathed deeply. “We shall conquer the galaxy, you and I. Side-by-side, as they say on your planet. The galaxy shall bow before me. And you, I suppose, to a dramatically less extent.”
Trax slapped Leonard back with his long, scaly hand. The writer gave an uncontrollable shudder.
"Yes, that'll be nice, sir."
"You'll be loved throughout the cosmos! And don't forget rich, of course! And famous.”
"Fame, sir?" Leonard felt a small surge in the pit of his stomach. “Like, well-known and stuff like that."
"If by 'stuff like that', you means hordes upon hordes of adoring females! The day after we conquer, we'll practically be swimming in...well, whatever it is human males fantasize about swimming in."
"Hmm," said Leonard. "That...would be nice, I suppose." Yes, very nice indeed.” If what Trax said was true, then maybe his dreams had actually come true, albeit in a very strange and disturbed way. "How many people do you think would read the biography?"
"Oh, trillions, of course," said Trax casually. The Emperor snatched a piece of paper from the desk, and began to examine it as he stroked his chin. "It would be required reading across the stars. Anyone caught reading anything else would be incinerated."
"I would like that," said Leonard, and meant it. "Except for the incineration, of course."
"Fine, fine, I'll have them beheaded," Trax smiled as he set the paper back down. "Earthling Nebb, there is work to be done."
Leonard pushed his glasses back up to the tip of his nose.
"Yes, sir, back to work," he said, returning his attention to the typewriter. "Where were we-ah, the destruction of the Orphan Library on Delta Magna VII."
"Ah, and what a bloody slaughter it was," said Trax. "I remember the wind breezing across my scales. I remember when it was all over, and I stood upon the a pile of bodies and recited the greatest joke ever! Why did the puppy cross the Kessler Galaxy?" Trax grinned widely, like a child getting ready to open a Christmas present. "Because it was hit by a space ship and its guts were splattered all over the window!"
Leonard let out a little chuckle.
"That, sir," said Leonard, writing the terrible joke as he spoke. "May very well be your masterpiece."
The characters are nice and fleshed out, as per us', and the story felt complete (as in it didn't feel like something was missing). 
Gender:
Points: 1413
Reviews: 56