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After finally browbeating Portalocity into letting him go home (okay, he'd cried. There'd been crying. Shut up.), Kuzco strode up to the palace like he owned the place.
Because he owned the place.
He walked into the throne room only to find Yzma in his seat, taking a petition from a peasant. Well...kind of.
"And why have you come here today?" she demanded imperiously. Kuzco snorted. She was so old: living proof that dinosaurs once roamed the earth. And next to her, as always, was a beefcake of negliable intelligence. This year's model was called Kronk. Kuzco watched as Kronk smacked himself in the forehead trying to get rid of a fly. And he thought Rhys had problems.
The peasant stammered out his problem as Kuzco made his way up to the back of the throne, unnoticed by anyone.
"It is no concern of mine whether your family has -- what was it again?" Yzma asked.
"Um, food?" the peasant replied.
"Ha! You really should have thought of that before you became peasants! We're through here. Take him away. Next!" She began rubbing the ache in her forehead away as Kuzco leaned in. "The nerve of some of those peasants, huh?"
"Tell me about it..." She griped, then turned her head and realized who was talking. "AHHHHH!"
"Hi there!" Kuzco said, giving her a jaunty little wave. "You were doing it again."
Yzma looked decidedly shifty. "Doing? Doing what?"
"Doing my job," Kuzco said pointedly. "I'm the Emperor, and you're the Emperor's advisor. Remember that?"
"Oh, but, your Highness, I was only dealing with meaningless peasant matters--" Kuzco let her babble on a little as he tuned out, making sure that nothing else had been changed in the throne room. Nope, still his face everywhere. Good.
"Uh, excuse me, your Highness. The village leader is here to see you," a court advisor interrupted nervously.
"Oh, great, send him in," Kuzco said. He turned to Yzma. "Oh, and by the way, you're fired."
"Fired?! What do you mean, fired?!"
"Uh, how else can I say it?" Kuzco pondered, then began listing them off on his fingers. You're being let go, your department's being downsized, you're part of an outplacement, we're going in a different direction, we're not picking up your option. Take your pick. I've got more!"
"But I -- you -- uh -- but your Highness, I have been nothing if not loyal to the empire for -- for -- for many, many years --" Yzma blustered.
"Hey, hey, everybody hits their stride, you just hit yours fifty years ago," Kuzco said. "So, who's in my chair?"
Kronk put his hand up and hopped around. "Oh, oh, I know! Yzma! Yzma's in your chair, right?"
"Very good, Kronk!" Kuzco said, clapping his hands. "Here, get the snack!" He pitched a cookie off of the throne dais. Kronk went diving after it, crashing onto the floor.
"You heard the man," Kuzco said. "Up you get. Bye-eeeee."
[OOC: Hard to believe no one likes him, huh.]
Because he owned the place.
He walked into the throne room only to find Yzma in his seat, taking a petition from a peasant. Well...kind of.
"And why have you come here today?" she demanded imperiously. Kuzco snorted. She was so old: living proof that dinosaurs once roamed the earth. And next to her, as always, was a beefcake of negliable intelligence. This year's model was called Kronk. Kuzco watched as Kronk smacked himself in the forehead trying to get rid of a fly. And he thought Rhys had problems.
The peasant stammered out his problem as Kuzco made his way up to the back of the throne, unnoticed by anyone.
"It is no concern of mine whether your family has -- what was it again?" Yzma asked.
"Um, food?" the peasant replied.
"Ha! You really should have thought of that before you became peasants! We're through here. Take him away. Next!" She began rubbing the ache in her forehead away as Kuzco leaned in. "The nerve of some of those peasants, huh?"
"Tell me about it..." She griped, then turned her head and realized who was talking. "AHHHHH!"
"Hi there!" Kuzco said, giving her a jaunty little wave. "You were doing it again."
Yzma looked decidedly shifty. "Doing? Doing what?"
"Doing my job," Kuzco said pointedly. "I'm the Emperor, and you're the Emperor's advisor. Remember that?"
"Oh, but, your Highness, I was only dealing with meaningless peasant matters--" Kuzco let her babble on a little as he tuned out, making sure that nothing else had been changed in the throne room. Nope, still his face everywhere. Good.
"Uh, excuse me, your Highness. The village leader is here to see you," a court advisor interrupted nervously.
"Oh, great, send him in," Kuzco said. He turned to Yzma. "Oh, and by the way, you're fired."
"Fired?! What do you mean, fired?!"
"Uh, how else can I say it?" Kuzco pondered, then began listing them off on his fingers. You're being let go, your department's being downsized, you're part of an outplacement, we're going in a different direction, we're not picking up your option. Take your pick. I've got more!"
"But I -- you -- uh -- but your Highness, I have been nothing if not loyal to the empire for -- for -- for many, many years --" Yzma blustered.
"Hey, hey, everybody hits their stride, you just hit yours fifty years ago," Kuzco said. "So, who's in my chair?"
Kronk put his hand up and hopped around. "Oh, oh, I know! Yzma! Yzma's in your chair, right?"
"Very good, Kronk!" Kuzco said, clapping his hands. "Here, get the snack!" He pitched a cookie off of the throne dais. Kronk went diving after it, crashing onto the floor.
"You heard the man," Kuzco said. "Up you get. Bye-eeeee."
[OOC: Hard to believe no one likes him, huh.]
