A word, if I may.

The President was a troublesome man, that was a given. Troublesome not because he gave him ludicrous orders, such as wearing a skull mask 24/7 unless being sent off into battle, but because of his ... rather ... erratic behavior.

There was no better way to describe it, Vasco Allende was a curious man who was capable of managing all the power of Esparia, and yet his behaviors were childish to the core. Well, okay. Maybe the word 'childish' is too harsh a term to describe it, but honestly being told to dress as the 'The Red Masque of Death' which had its origins from a poem, which got reference again in a play from some Cretan authors while out on diplomatic missions crossed the line between malicious humor and utter insanity.

Well, either way, he had his own set of rights. As a property, his access about most of this particular abode to the President was virtually unrestricted, meaning he could come and go as he pleased, though doing so without informing anyone would invite a mountain of paperwork 'conveniently' invented so as to deter him FROM going out unannounced. Rather humiliating, but still, nothing a good ol'fashioned window escape couldn't fix ... and later burning/shredding/trashing the paperwork.

Yeah, he got away with a lot of things, due to previous connection to Vasco and his deadweight dad, but hey. At least the President hadn't decided to execute him. Or make him wear a giant panda suit, as opposed to this ornate, albeit almost garish, red costume. BACK TO THE TASK ON HAND, as opposed to giving President Allende more ideas about how to make his life miserable!

The President should be home, most likely in his office at this time of day . . . well, considering how many guards were clustering in the hallway leading to it, it seemed likely that Vasco was in. So, it was time to speak to him about his new job. Or well, about where he was needed FOR that job, since in the end, all things were the man's decision.

'Please, Mio Dio, let him be here so I don't have to go hunting for him again!'

And thus, 'Ranza Falkazar' enters one of the main offices of Vasco Allende, hoping to find him in there . . . hoping . . . as much as one can, when dealing with a grade-A madman.

"HAW HAW HAW HAW! HAW HAW HAW HAW! HAW HAW HAW HAW!" Laughter ensued of alien origins, vibrant and graphic colors flashed in pixelized form, a yellow dog thing was holding its stomach within this motion picture, with a logo at the lower right labeled aptly in black and white form of CN. Princess Bubblegum lost her hair, and much to her chagrin, the yellow dog was laughing hard. It went in a unison with the mustached man's own chuckle, finding humor in the absurdity of all this situation.

Having just come back from a fishing trip from Kamahen, after his heart throbbed with the aches of an almost cardiac arrest, the fedora wearing Hawaiian shirt President was in a no worse for wear than a gorilla hyped up on adrenaline. The doctors were great enough to cure him with magical medicine, or as Vasco knows it more aptly, just a few techniques that he himself learnt given he was a former medic in the Rouenian war. Though the door opened up was met with an eyebrow raised.

From behind his desk, all lacking any sort of paperwork, most are stacked up to some desolate corner whence no life thrives, Vasco was not amused.

BANG!

A hole formed in the wall next to Fernando's head, or was it Miranda? Maybe Franza? He couldn't remember the name of the Red Death. Then again, he always called him Red Death, or Skull, or Loopy. Either names fit him anyways. The Amazonian guards rushed behind the guy, peering through to see any signs of trouble, only to find the gun that shot was the smoking muzzle of Vasco's pistol. One he holstered. They dispersed, going back to their duties, knowing the Presidenté's legendary shoot his own minions skills.

Vasco himself sternly looked at the interloper, whom he could forgive, considering he was one of the FEW ones who can enter his office, since he has permission, "SO, to what do I owe the pleasure of you interrupting Adventure Time?" He cracked his knuckles, "As I happen, I am a busy man, running a country and all that, and this TV, pixelized, Kamahen made, costing something about a good load of money, doesn't exactly have a channel pause feature, so be out with it! Or I take it you tender the idea of a fuzzy panda suit being worn all the time?"

A bullet soars by his head, which today is not wearing that tasteless costume. That was a benefit, and a good one too, he had for staying in this home . . . he didn't have to wear that outrageous costume unless explicitly ordered to. So, his frown, sigh, and shut eyes as he massaged his temples could all be seen plainly in response to that event.

Meanwhile the Amazonians, as they were called, rushed over to see what was going on . . . and upon seeing Vasco with a gun and he not terribly amused, along with the Presidenté holstering said gun, the guards returned to their posts. After all, it was just another day of Vasco getting irritated at someone and trying to shoot them. For an Esparian, Vasco's "Shoot-his-own-minion" skills were peculiar, but nonetheless.

"SO, to what do I owe the pleasure of you interrupting Adventure Time?"

Oh lord, he was watching that Cretan garbage ... unless it came from somewhere else? Ranza did not know, and did not care, but he knew full well that these times were serious business for the Presidenté, and no matter who it was, he did not favor any interruption. It was almost like a ritual for the man, as Ranza found out ... in fact, the last time he barged in was when he found out he was named Ambassador, and also that he had to wear that outrageous outfit. Ranza's reminiscing ends just as Vasco cracks his knuckles, prompting the younger Esparian to pull off the hood of his sweatshirt

"As I happen, I am a busy man, running a country and all that, and this TV, pixelized, Kamahen made, costing something about a good load of money, doesn't exactly have a channel pause feature, so be out with it! Or I take it you tender the idea of a fuzzy panda suit being worn all the time?"

He blanches. No, all his training could not prepare himself for that threat. In fact, he was wondering if Vasco had implanted some sort of microchip inside his head that enabled him to keep a proper registry on his thoughts. THAT WAS THE ONLY WAY HE KNEW! Unless Vasco was a telepathic alien species that claimed to be el Presidenté?!

... Wait. ... Focus.

He just asked a question, meaning Ranza was obligated to hold back his urge to throw himself out the window in sheer terror and answer.

"You called for me, sir. To discuss about the creation of Esparia's diplomatic offices and positions, or more accurately, which nations you wanted to send me off to for whatever reason you feel like." His voice is sincere. Calm and composed, as always. But if one paid attention to his words, there was a bit of a biting remark snuck into the phrasing, while his sweet tone covered it up.