"That's not all," interjects the King, "we'll also compensate you handsomely for your efforts to secure the throne. I am, after all, the rightful ruler of this land." He looks around the throne room with complete confidence, groomed from birth to believe that monarchy was something to revere. That he was completely and intrinsically worthy of worship, he had never had a single doubt.
You kind of hate him. But, like everyone, you could use the cash.
"And," Lord Licorice chimes in with their green-lit eyes shimmering, "you even get to lead the charge." The King tosses you a case made of blackened hard candy, the smooth finish flowing cold root-beer flavoring through your fingertips. You open it, and see a style of ray gun that even the most hardcore retro fan would have to call 'camp.'
"Is that a Sugar Ray Gun?" you quip. The King is not amused, and you can tell that he'd like to reprimand you, but all that has to wait for later.
"It'll liquify anything under my domain," he states. Darkly, dryly.
"Can you Venmo?" you say, even drier.
"What's your price tag?"
"Fine." He gestures, and a candy cane guard enters, carrying another hard-candy case, this one emerald green, and filled completely with cash.
"Where did you get cash?" you ask, taking the slick, lime flavored handle in your hand.
"New Jersey. They keep a lot of cash in New Jersey," the King shrugs.
That's when you hear the banging begin, and you can feel the shaking of the castle walls. Someone is definitely here.
"Oh, god," whispers the King, as screaming begins in the castle foyer. "Save your King," he screams as he hides behind the curtains, clutching a Sugar Ray Gun, only the very tips of his royal boots visible beneath the fondant drapery.