Multiverse's Next Top Model: Hoodwinked!

[cityship]

Stacy sends out the call for certain crew members to present themselves at the decks. Once they are all rounded up, they are presented with the following information before being shuffled off into a shuttle to the nearby plant.

Planet Designation: Exotic Location
Status: Terrestrial.
Non-sentient life: Wild flora and fauna has been all much eliminated by homo sapiens. Domesticated flora and fauna present in limited quantities.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: Homo Sapiens.
Water: 89.3% of the planet's surface.
Climate: Earth-like
Landscape: Dense cities on all land masses except 'photo shoot' regions.
Air: Normoxic concentration.
Air Pressure: 89.6 kPa = 13 psi
Sky: Orange, with variable cloud cover.
Sun: A class G2V, white star.
Mission: Diplomatic mission with ruler Tyrant Banks for 'confidential, fierce information regarding the Ohm'.

The shuttle takes the scenic route, passing over cities filled with skyscrapers and billboards the size of small towns. Finally, it lands on the outskirts of one city, between the downtown and the beach. The shuttle docks, and the doors open to a room with black walls and a single flatscreen television at the far end. No doors are in sight.

On the television, a black and white PowerPoint seems to have been set up. It reads:

TYRANTMAIL,

Your welcome gift will be a real heavenly surprise!

Fiercely in Love,
Tyrant

The message is accompanied by a jpeg of Tyrant Banks riding a motorcycle in the tundra while wearing a bikini. She looks incredibly fierce.

Comments

[cityship]

"We prefer Cyril," they say in unison, before Tyrant takes over. "And I don't especially like your attitude. You do realize that I am an incredibly successful model in both high fashion and commercial venues, that Monsieur Leon Talleyho is one of the most influential people in fashion, that Mr. Jay is your art director, and that Nigel does something?"

"Is a Noted Fashion Photographer," Nigel fills in.

Talleyho shakes his head. "We're incredibly knowledgeable in our field, and if we say you're pedestrian, you, our dear boy, are pedestrian."

[grimbiker]

"I don't care if you're the Minister of Magic. My name is Sirius Black and if you have a problem with my attitude then deal with it." Sirius said sharply. "I didn't come out of Azkaban to be ordered around by some primadonna."

Oh, it had all been amusing. The three beds, the high heels, the pictures of Tyrant sprawled everywhere, but Sirius wasn't entertained anymore. Now was the time to see who was the most self absorbed narcissist: the firstborn son of Orion and Walburga Black, groomed from birth to be the heir of the ancient and most noble house of Black... or Tyrant Banks?

[cityship]

The judges all gasp. No one dares insult their Tyrant!

Tyrant glowers, eyes shifting ever so subtly from a smize to a glare that could pierce through mithril armor. A wisp of steam rises from the weave on her head. Under her hand, a crack spiderwebs down the arm of the throne.

"You will go by Cyril and accept your makeover," Tyrant says slowly, dragging each syllable out like a well-manicured fingernail across a particularly screechy invisible chalkboard, "or you will return to the house, pack your bags, and leave the competition immediately."

[grimbiker]

Sirius didn't back down from that glare. In fact, he smirked.

"You're really going to pass up me up?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "If I can make you this angry imagine the kind of drama I can bring to this contest. I'm going to make you an offer, Tyrant Banks. I go by Sirius, I accept a makeover- without platinum hair down to my waist- and I will bring you juiciest, pettiest drama you have ever seen."

Well played, Sirius!

[cityship]

Tyrant steams for a few seconds. Literally. A piece of her weave catches fires and Jay quietly puts it out.

"Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "Stylists, give him the regular. Black, this drama had better be excellent."

She's still not calling him Sirius, for the record.

[grimbiker]

Sirius bowed.

"I always deliver on my promises. Now," He turned to his man servants stylists. "I'm ready for you. And I'm prepared to tell you the long, glorious tale of Sirius Black."

[cityship]

Tyrant steeples her fingers and listens as stylists trim up Sirius' hair and apply an amount of makeup only slightly questionable for a young man.