they also brew swill

He speaks unabashedly of his master plan.

Unflinchingly, he describes an entity to blanket the globe, sucking lifeblood with laser guided corporate vampirism. From a jagged-looking monastery, one could fairly assume, he would grin menacingly at his empire, pondering infinite deifying maneuvers. He would have a disturbingly human-like vaudevillian companion chained to a throneside granite column.

People would call him “Sir.”