MASTER OF THE GODS -- by Steve Sutton

John was just an ordinary guy, doing an ordinary job. Nothing exciting ever happened to him, unless you count the time he got lost in the Mall and spent most of that day wandering aimlessly from store-to-store, hoping someone would show him the way out. This was four years ago, though. Since that time, his life had become enveloped in stagnant, predictable routine. He would open his eyes each morning and frown at the fact that another day was upon him. Scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice would thereafter find their way down his throat and into his waiting stomach. His workplace wasn't particularly inspiring, and each day he would operate his cash register reluctantly, but efficiently, and ring up the various items that the customers in his lane had chosen to become their very own. Working in the department store gave John no great joy, but it paid the rent. After his shift ended, he would go home and nuke a TV. dinner for five-to-seven minutes, then relax and enjoy the half-heated home-cooked meal in front of a predictable sitcom, then retire for the night. This was his life. On this day, however, the unexpected made its presence known.

"Beep...beep...beep..." went the register as he slid various items across the UPC scanner. He thought of being nude on a beach somewhere with a dozen bikini-clad individuals lying on the sand next to him, feeding him cheeseburgers. He liked cheeseburgers. What he wouldn't have given for a cheeseburger right then. He slid the last item across the scanner, hit the "TOTAL" button and checked the total on his display. Looking at the elderly customer, whose face was overly-powdered white and whose mouth was hidden beneath red lipstick, he announced it to her.
"Fifty-six ninety-seven," he raised the corners of his mouth to form what could loosely be described as a smile. It was store policy to, at least, make the effort. The lady dug around in her purse for a few minutes and retrieved three twenty-dollar bills. John took them from her thin fingers and entered the amount into the register. At about this time, a disturbance was developing across from him in the women's clothes section of the store. He paid it little mind, and proceeded with the transaction. As the money drawer of the register popped open, several screams rang out from the department. He looked up and saw a husky man wearing animal skins and carrying a glowing staff emerge from behind some lingerie with a determined look on his face. The man's eyes were soon set unwaveringly upon him, burning with the hatred of eons past.
"You!" the stranger's voice bellowed, and he quickly approached his intended prey. "'Tis the last time I shall be forced before the Royal Council by your doing, Sir John!" The man pushed the old lady out of the way, saying, "We shall see, whence we meet in the Arena, who is the
rightful heir to Godhood!"
"Excuse me, young man," the lady intervened. "But you'll have to get in line behind me. I was..." The man turned toward her, letting out a hellish shriek. A long, forked tongue suddenly shot out from his mouth and licked every inch of her face within a few seconds. He then raised the staff and vaporized her with a green pulse from it. In fact, anyone brave enough to had remained in the store after his initial appearance had been vaporized, with the exceptions of John and himself. He turned back towards John.
"Within a fortnight, I shall be the God Royale," he said, then added, with slight joviality, "and you shall be dead!" Laughing, he vanished in a sudden surge of fire. After a few moments of utter confusion and astonishment, John came to the conclusion that he had simply cracked.
Working at a department store, it was bound to happen. Department stores tend to do that to a person, if they stay inside one long enough. He closed the money drawer and decided to take the rest of the day off. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

Council Leader Dormin stood erectly behind the marble podium of the Great Hall. It was the second time in as many decades that the Council had been called to order. The familiar faces that now sat, once again, at the pentagonal table in the center of the chamber held expressions of contempt at having been recalled for Judgement in so brief a time. Several of the knighted gods now present had just settled down for what they had hoped would be a few thousand years of peace and relaxation when the unexpected challenge had been announced. Dormin cleared his throat.
"My friends," he began. "As you've heard, Master Reevo has, again, made challenge of the spirit of Sir John of Nottingham. We have been called to enforce and oversee this challenge." Raising his golden bow above his head, he bellowed, "Let the challenge be carried out according to the laws of the Ancient Ones! Bring forth the warriors!"
Several members of the Council groaned quietly to themselves at this point. This little display of theatrics had really gotten old over the last fourteen hundred years or so. Bob, the god of shoes, lifted his head out of his hands and quietly muttered, "Can we just get on with it?"
The chamber grew quiet, as if somebody had suddenly announced that blue apples were dancing merrily in the streets. Dormin looked at the others, and saw that their faces held the same expression, an expression that one could easily get by chugging castor oil. Walking around the podium, he took his seat at the table and gave everyone a disappointed look. He enjoyed making his little speeches.
"Fine," he said, waving his hand over the table. As he did this, an image of a great castle formed within the tabletop. "We'll bring Reevo first."

Icy winds howled through the tall, bare trees on the outskirts of King Samuel's lavish estate, which had been magically protected from the harshness of the bitter cold by the royal sorcerer. Above, dark, menacing clouds passed quickly by, detouring a respectable distance around the
warming Sun. Below, the greenery surrounding Castle Samuel flourished, basking in the sunlight and providing an almost surreal landscape to the casual observer. Reevo was not a casual observer, however. Having resided in the castle since birth, he was no more impressed by the scene than he was at the sight of the two horses culminating in sexual ecstasy in the field below. From his window, he could see a good part of the southwestern property, including Lyre Lake and the servants' quarters. At the moment, he was only interested in one thing, that being the appearance of the Battlegate. This would manifest itself in the form of a funnel cloud coming down from the sky, carrying the face of the Council Leader within it. It would also be confirmation that his challenge had been answered, and his passageway to it.

The Battlegate came for both warriors at virtually the same time, and delivered them to different locations in a dense forest. After a long and perilous journey, they both arrived at a giant arena, where they were thrown into combat against each other. After several close calls, the victor emerged from the blood-splattered grounds a new man, only to find himself challenged by Dormin, who was falling out of the sky, directly towards him, hands reaching outward to grab him. Completely exhausted, John simply picked up a spear and allowed him to land on it. In the end, Dormin managed to sputter one final teary-eyed word before dying.
"Rosebud."
John suddenly felt himself being lifted up into the sky. He knew the reason, although he didn't know how he knew. He had beaten Dormin, and would now be knighted and would take his place as the ruler of the Council, ruler of the Universe and the God Royale!