You expect me to fear you? You? Usurper? Claimant on my dominion?
Sure, you have a fearsome appearance… huge fangs, dripping with saliva and other fluids that no Overlord should see.
Sure, you’re wrapped in stench… a reek reminiscent of the depths of Hell, from which you surely came.
Sure, your breath is itself, a weapon… a pungent odour that no Overlord such as myself should have to endure.
Your overall countenance is horrific… grisly fur, slimy skin, claws designed to gut Overlords such as me.
My subjects call you ‘Puppy’. They don’t fear you. They’re not smart enough to fear you.
I, however, know your true purpose. Evil. I shall call you ‘Meat’, for that is what you shall be, soon enough.
I don’t fear you, I pity you.
You blinked first.