Chaz lounged in his newly-acquired throne, entirely made of tiny ivory sticks, and watched his subjects clear the battle rubble from the room. One body left a deep red smear across the floor as a white-faced man dragged him out by his feet. Three women began scrubbing at the viscous pool. He looked up at the hulking beast that crouched behind his throne. Its yellow eyes followed the bodies out the door.
“Go on, then,” Chaz said and the beast rumbled away in the wake of the carrion. It’s good to be the Supreme Emperor, he thought with a grin.
I went a little abstract on this one with the chopsticks and Siracha, and less abstract with the idea of superiority.
Bonus story: a sci-fi short about a rebel alliance planning to rebel against a tyrant.