An annoyed little huff from the pampered Kremling.
“Oh very well, if it’s REALLY that much of a bother I’ll simply enjoy smothering you from the comfort of my royal chambers.”
He’d grunt and lift up off the ground, the yeen coming along with him, as he started heading there.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m plenty comfortable. Although, I suppose this is hardly a fitting environment for royalty such as myself.”
K. Rool peered down at his newfound “prey” with quite the smug look on his face, hot air snorting from his snout.
“It seems you were right, this IS a good time.”
He shifted around, really pressing firmly as he got comfortable.
With the slightest bit of a grunt, the king pressed his immense belly against that runt of a treasure hunter. Despite being clad in gold, it was rather soft…but still immeasurably heavy.
They don’t call me rotten to the core for nothing. My gut can handle whatever you throw at it, lightweight.
Oh. Hm.
Well, if you must know, my services don’t come cheap. I’m as valuable as the crown that sits upon my head.
You best be prepared to pay the price.






