Godhood XIV - Usurper [Honey Edition Turn 3]

Craft takes a deep breath, as if to steady himself. It doesn't seem to be working, judging by the way his internals are starting to spin out and how he's twitching like that.

It's just a tiny *twitch* little *click* grievance. Well, not tiny on my side, it's actually a great big grievance with bad history behind it, but so far you've only caused a small transgression.

Look.

I don't like being called tiny.

Yes, my comfortable size in the divine plane is significantly below average. Yes, I could easily switch to a much larger size - I could tower over everyone here if I so chose - but I am very comfortable at my usual size, and it helps my work. I would much prefer it if you didn't point it out.

So far, it's clear you mean no harm with your comment of *twitchclickWHHHHHHIRRRRRRRR* "teeny weeny" but I still very much hate the implications. Hate them. *Click* Hate them, Hate them, Hate them. *Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick* I hate them with the fury of a million swarms, with the rage of a thousand beasts, I hate them more than *CLICKCLICKCLICK* I hate them *CLICK CLICK* I HATE them *CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK* I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM.

Craft leaps up onto Bacardi's front, eyes aglow like worlds of magma and death.

I BLOODY HATE BEING CALLED TINY. IT MEANS *CLICK* THAT THEY BELIEVE I MY SIZE DICTATES MY RIGHTS. *CLICK CLICK CLANK* IT MEANS *WHIRRRR* THAT I AM LESSER THAN THEM. IT MEANS THAT I SHOULD STEP ASIDE AND LET THE QUOTE UNQUOTE *CLICK WHIRRCLANK* "BIG GODS" HANDLE THINGS. IT MEANS THAT I AM WORTHLESS, A TOY, JUST SOME LITTLE TRIFLE TO BE BLOODY TRICKED AND TOSSED AWAY, A NOTHING*CLICK*, A SPARE, *CLANK* A BLOODY FUCKING CARD MAGICIAN COMPARED TO THEM, EVEN THOUGH I AM JUST AS STRONG.

Craft's gaze is here for now, but it's looking somewhere in the past. The Water god is getting the brunt of it at this time. Whoever that hatred is tied to is clearly in for it, the next time his path crosses Craft.

The mantis's voice drops to a whisper. All the clicks and whirrs stop, very suddenly, before his voice quickly crescendos.

So don't call me "the Smallest".
Don't call me "teeny-weeny".
Don't call me "the tiniest god you've ever known".
Don't call me a midget,
Don't call me half-pint,
Don't claim I only do the intricate stuff because I can't reach the big stuff,
DON'T CALL ME SHORTY, AND DON'T YOU EVER
FUCKING
DARE
TO CALL ME "PIPSQUEAK", YOU STUPID,
RUSTY,
FLEA-RIDDEN
BRASS FURBALL!