Write about a villian who isn’t all powerful but instead uses what moderate abilities they possess to consistently infuriate a mighty warrior into blindly destroying world after world.

When I first saw him I wasn’t very much convinced that I had just been introduced to a mighty warrior. It was my first time on Earth, after all. His stature was big – well padded – but not muscular, his fitness was not extraordinary, and his charm and looks too, were far from alluring. Yet in the squinty eyes set underneath those wispy eyebrows I saw a burning desire for power – like a smouldering pot waiting to boil over. All that was needed was the right push.

“Father” I cried as I stepped into his quarters one day, “Father, this is the chance of a lifetime. You cannot let this slip from your grasp.”

Slowly the intertial mass that I had called out too swiveled round in an armchair. He was smoking a cigar and on his lap i saw some half eaten – what do you call those? – french fries. “This is the perfect opportunity”, I dropped the words slowly and precisely “The world is ours for the taking.”

Very suspiciously those eyes peered at me as his brow caved into a frown. I unfurled the documents that I was holding, and spread them out upon the mahogany table, brushing aside the fries.

“Sanders has made the first move by taking positions here, here, and here.” I shifted several pieces on a map. “But this leads him straight into this weak point here, and his whole camp will have to take the position no matter what.” I was convinced that it was the time to strike, but my champion was staring at the table with a glazed look in his eyes.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. “The coloured ones of the South are advancing,” I whispered “Their spies increase in number in our land with each passing day.” That seemed to do the trick – proverbial push over the edge. Outraged, he stood up from the chair and roared “Never! We will take control first. This absolutely shall not happen.” My warrior can be quite prone to anger at times, over the years of grooming I developed an appreciation for his short fuse and temperament. It was his best asset and perhaps the only thing that could be used to control him. They say the smartest people are those who find the best people to do the work for them.

As we started the crusade I realised early on that the odds were against him, for he was was of terrible manners and decidedly bad tastes. One too many occasions his gruff, intolerable responses had offended far too many people. Unpopularity with the masses poses a huge disadvantage to any warrior. It impedes their growth and it strangles their confidence, like how a deadly vine winds itself slowly but surely around a tree, choking it to death overtime. But I had the slightest of notions that this would go well, and luck was an interesting luxury that I was familiar with.

Well today was the day that things finally would go as plan. All the pieces had been carefully placed, and the plan was about to be set in motion. I stepped out from behind the gold and red trimmed curtains and made my way up slowly to the rostrum. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I am Jared Kushner, and today, I am delighted to introduce to you, my father-in-law, Donald J. Trump, who will give his speech for the presidential nomination.”

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