[Sorry, had the irresistible urge to continue this.]

He hung up the phone finally, sighing in exasperation. That silly girl didn't want to go to the police. She wasn't hurt, nothing of particular value taken, no names, nothing to go on. To top it all off, she thought that some random confused spy had just bombed a top secret mission exclusively to get access to her lunch.

He hummed to himself, rocking back and forth in his chair while he thought. If only he was still on speaking terms with her estranged uncle, Louie. He lived in the city, and was the only family he could count on to look over her while she settled in. But... there was the wedding incident. He struggled, but finally, he made up his mind and placed the call with only a quick grimace.

"Thank you for calling, how may I direct your call?"

"I wanted to reserve my usual table, under the name Hank McGuire?"

There was a pause. "Sir, this is Senior Getaway Adult Care. You were probably trying to reach Don's Athletics. 8898, not 8889."

He grimaced. "Sorry about that. Must be nerves, my team's in the league and about to go to the finals, you've probably heard of us? Big Lou's Paddlers?"

The woman on the other side issued a friendly tsk. "Of course I have. And this happens a lot. Would you like me to hang up so you can redial?"

"Yes, thank you. Geez, that was an amateur mistake. This is why I always say: Wednesdays are never great for table tennis."

He heard a pause, then a hum and a buzz. The woman's voice chirped up again, still polite and bubblingly cheerful, although slightly muffled by the white noise of static. "But you know: you can still win if you scrimmage until Thursday."

"Or show up early and beat them on a Tuesday." He chuckled agreeably. There was a loud, crisp click, and another voice came on the line.

"Hey, Hank. You know I don't do family discounts, so you prepared to pay this time, or just wanting some chit-chat? Either way, make it quick, this ain't a good time, my boys are coming in hot right now. Some A+1 shit, you know what that means."

Hank began to explain about his daughter, and how she had moved to the city recently. Lou listened, growing more exasperated as he realized what the call was about.

"And you want me to play babysitter? What part of 'no family deals' didn't you comprende?" The voice faded as Lou leaned away from the phone. "Tell him to come right in, I'm done with this call. No shit bring the documents with him, did he think I liked his fashion sense and wanted pointers?"

His voice rose again. "Yeah, Hank. You want a bodyguard, you got the wrong guys. I'm gonna hang up now, business to do. Good hearing from you, bro, don't call again." A pause. "Well? Show me the goods."

"Lou. Be reasonable. You know you still owe me for --"

"YOU BROUGHT ME A GODDAMN TURKEY SANDWICH?!" Lou bellowed suddenly.

"Pretty peaceful, ayup?"

"Ayup."

The two old men sat in companionable silence, watching monsters and demons walk by. A few jeered at them, getting a cheerful wave in return. None dared to enter, despite their overwhelming power, because --

zap

Behind them, Loki fell over dead, the anti-god trap surrounding the bench triggered by his attempt to sneak in. Not even the trickster could fool it into thinking he was just another human. Another spying attempt, failed.

"Beautiful day, innit?"

"Innit."

The two old men sighed happily, secure in their little microcosmic bubble of society, while all around them the world went crazy as all the mythical elements of history came to life and wrecked havoc.

To make sure I'm understanding this correctly, glubnyan, your main argument is that your nephew is a sociopathic, deviant, immature demon worshipper, and that's why you overthrew a centuries old line of ascension to seize the throne for yourself?

Firstly, obviously he's immature, he's five. It is agist and highly inappropriate in 1500 to still judge people based on factors they did not choose. Unless you are saying he's immature for a five year old, which is a different story entirely.

You also say he's a sociopath, but offer no evidence that you had alchemists and court sorcerers check him for any disability that would disqualify him from ruling. You didn't even take him to a barber to have his bad blood leeched. If anything, you are the immortal one here, for child neglect.

As for the charges of deviancy and demon cult participation, well, we were all present at the Sacrifice of Gaul. You MAY recall that most of us refused to participate in a blood orgy involving a minor.

You may ALSO recall that you were hierophant at that weekend celebration, and one of the participants who refused to stop the madness before the regrettable summoning that took place. May those poor souls claw their way out of Beelzebub's scrotum eventually, amen.

Ultimately, I have to strongly denounce the behavior that led to your uprising and the banishment of poor Friedrich, last of his name. However, now that you are king and rightful ruler of these lands, who has decreed that all criticism of your reign is most heinous treason to be punished by death, I must say:

NTA. Long live the king.