Candide, hero of heroes, strode out the doorway like he was the king of the world. His opponent, the actual king of the world, took a long and hard look at the muscular young fireman. Candide's stride – long, confident, purposeful, sexy – left little doubt he knew how to walk. His obviously subtle smile would come to define smirks for generations afterward. His heavy steel axehead twinkled in the stadium lights whimsically.

Candide raised his axe above his head. A crowd of hundreds of thousands of spectators roared with approval. Lungs bellowed until their air was exhausted. Then, they gasped and cheered more.

The planet itself accelerated its rotation into a dizzying spectacle, but the movement was not felt in the stadium, the axis of the movement. The spin although not felt was perceived by the starscape overhead turning into a blur of white curved lines. Never had the youth felt such admiration. The king felt in his bones that this younger man would be the doom of his royal championship.

The drone behind Candide reminded him, “Don't forget your war cry.”

“Thanks, Aegelief.” Candide shouted, “Looking busy is an important job skill! Being busy is a symptom of failed organization!”

The crowd lept out of its seats and bounced in approving cheer.

Odin watched from an observation box with his best friend and greatest enemy, Lord Shiva. The room was not lavish. It was utilitarian, sparse even. It didn't even have a wall between them and the arena, so some would not count it as even a room. Shiva did not approve of the accommodations, but he held his forked tongue. The two omnipotent life forms sat in oversized chairs, a pig beside a hatchling. To the humans across the universe, they were the Boar and the Dragon, Zeus and Hades, Creation and Destruction.

Unable to hold his contempt any longer (or actually just unwilling to hold his contempt any longer), Shiva complained. “It wouldn't kill you to pad these plastic seats. I rule an the entire galaxy of Alpha Centari undisputed. I have known pleasures beyond comprehension of most intelligences. Here I am, sitting on hard plastic.”

Odin ignored the complaint.

“...cold hard plastic.”

Odin observed his champion below, “The firefighter looks good. The crowd likes him.”

Shiva retorted, “The crowd is a horde of drones. They were instructed to cheer.”

“They genuinely enjoy it. You can tell by their pitch.”

“They are genetically programmed to genuinely enjoy it.”

Odin commentated, “Now, he's lifting an axe over his head. They like that too.”

“They've never seen a man lift an axe over his head before, so they wouldn't know if stooge had done it well.”

After an awkward silence, Shiva asked, “What did you say he was again? A firemaker?”

“He's a firefighter.”

“Does he wrestle fire?”

“He extinguishes fires. It's an important job in societies where the humans build their shelters out of flammable materials.”

“Does his planet lack rocks?”

“No, as far as I can tell, they mostly use wood out of stubbornness.”

“So you found a planet full of firefighters, and this guy extinguishes the fires with an axe. How does that work?”

“His planet's population is 51% firefighters. They have an extensive volunteer firefighter program, so most humans serve a tour as a firefighter during their youth. The remaining 49% are arsonists and pyromaniacs mostly. They also have a higher than average rate of volcanic activity, so their cities catch on fire from that too. They like wood a lot.”

“They use axes to deal with the problem?”

“This one does.”

“...and he's the best they have?”

“He's the best. That's what my crew concluded at least. I think he'll do fine.”

“Not today, Snout-Face. He's going up against one of my best. This guy is the king from the King Earth. He rules – literally! I also made him king of this planet as soon as we landed so his victory would be legal. That's how it works now.”

“That is not how anything works.”

“Unless your champion can transform my champion into fire and then extinguish him with an axe, your guy is toast.”

Odin turned to Mugin and said, “Lord Shiva would like some toast. Bring him some toast.”

Shiva interrupted, “That is not what I said, and you know it, Green Eggs and Ham!”

“Lord Shiva would like eggs and ham added to his order.”

“No, you are the green eggs and ham! You're a porker, and you're green! And – you're messing with me aren't you?”

“With great power comes great sarcasm.”

“Have I told you recently that I hate your fortune cookie philosophies? You're not as wise as you think you are.”

The drone delivered the green toast with eggs and ham.

Shiva stared at the plate and pondered aloud, “I must not be wise either. I cannot figure out if your drones are this stupid or if they dare mess with me also.”

“They're pretty stupid. Speaking of stupid and porkers, your king looks past his prime. That long cape is just going to slow him down. His scepter is made of hollow gold, a particularly soft metal for combat even at low human levels of strength. He's fat.”

“That's combat mass.”

“I know fat when I see it.”

“You --” Shiva paused. He considered whether he wanted to agree that Odin was fat and concede the point about his own champion or argue that his own champion was not fat and in effect backwardly complement Odin. He settled on, “Your visor looks stupid.”

Odin let the insult go and instead pondered, “I wonder what they are saying down there.”