A Suit For A King
He turns back to the mirror and smiles smugly as he pulls on the jackets lapel and nods his head rhythmically.
“I think you’re right, the darker shades bring an almost constant shading to the trim, but,” he says as he turns back to the twisted little man who grins up at him while kneading his hands into each other aggressively. “B-B-B,” he clutches his chest tightly and clears his throat with an overly violent drawback followed by a gut wrenching cough that cause him to instantly break out in a sweat. He stares at the little man with watery eyes, while his grin broadens to a point where half his face is taken up by it. He clears his throat once more then turns back to the mirror as he swallows a jagged mouthful of what feels like razor blades. He coughs again, and casts a wayward glare towards the little man.
“WIPE THAT RIDICULOUS SMILE FROM YOUR FACE WHELP AND ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION!” he snarls, only for the little man to laugh loudly.
“My smile only infuriates you because you have yet to find the words to ask the question you so desperate need to ask about my beautiful suit, a question that needn’t be asked for when you apply a more astute aspect in your thinking you would know that any flesh can be used for clothing, as long as it is treated in the correct manner when it is striped form the body,” he says coldly.