Vilgax magician

"Magician!"

She stopped halfway through pulling a sword out of her throat. She pushed it back in.

"I am not impressed! I've seen through every one of your magic tricks thus far. Mere trickery, stage machinery! You're a charlatan!"

Clownmuffle cocked her head so perilously far her neck might twist. "You haven't seen through any tricks. They were magic."

"Of course they weren't. Everything you accomplished was easily replicable with Vilgaxian technology. Utterly talentless and lacking in charisma."

"No. No, no." She shook her head. "That's not true. You're lacking charisma. An aesthetic abortion. Asymmetrical brutalist garbage, all the colors of cancerous vomit. An absolute zero out of ten. Don't tell me I'm lacking charisma. Don't tell me I'm lacking charisma. Where are your clothes."

"This is the uniform of my empire's army. Your clothing implies you are an entertainer. But I've seen nothing of the sort. If you can't entertain me, that outfit is a cheap veneer over a vapid nothing, false advertising, un-representative. And it's tacky."

She fell to her knees. Nothing could have prepared her for being so thoroughly demolished. Being accused of falsity and flaunting a style that didn't represent her, that made her nauseous, because he was right. That was the magician's role.

"Well. Perhaps there is one thing I might like to see."

Clownmuffle perked up and looked at him cautiously.

"I've never seen a magician hold their breath in a water-filled cage for three weeks. If you could stay underwater in a glass cage for three weeks, that would make you a worthy performer indeed."

That was all he had to say. She twirled her cape, blocking herself from Vilgax's vision, and when it fluttered away the case was already there. Clownmuffle suspended upside-down, chained, straightjacketed in a cube of water surrounded by curious sharks. And he didn't even ask for sharks.

He clapped his hands. "Oh, very good. That is impressive. Well, I've got places to be, so I'll see you in three weeks." And he jumped up out of the pit, leaving Clownmuffle alone with the sharks and the bones in the dark, and the sand steadily pouring in.

- Round 2