This is all based off what I would want to see in a villain/hero confrontation. It's short. Remember the whoever reads this is my favourites rule. By John Harris, etc, etc.

Dark Lord Shrive sat on his throne. In an hour, if the prophecies were as accurate as they'd always been, he'd meet his doom by the Chosen One. He'd had twenty years to rule this land and he'd done it as well as any Dark Lord would.

Suddenly the stained glass windows he'd placed on the roof to give the room a more open look smashed inwards and down came the hero.

"You're early," Shrive said without looking up from his papers.

The Chosen One looked at him in confusion for a moment before soldiering on. "Lord Shrive, I have come to kill you for your crimes against my family and my country."

"I didn't do anything to your family," said Shrive. "They're just naturally bad farmers."

"You hounded them since the day I was born, in attempts to kill me before I reached adulthood and defeated you," the Chosen One accused. "They said so."

"Nope. Never bothered with you at all. If you were going to come kill me, you're going to come kill me. No reason for me to actually give you reason," Shrive finally looked up and smiled pleasantly. "In fact, once I found out that I was bad enough to deserve a Chosen One, I cleaned up my act a bit. Life in this country has never been better."

The Chosen One looked like he wished he'd been told about the change of script.

Shrive continued. "Of course, if you kill me things are going to go down the drain. I never did train a successor. War, famine, chances of corrupt leadership. Can't wait to see how they thank you for this."

The Chosen One frowned. Shrive smirked. Holding an entire country hostage had been one of his better ideas.

"You're evil." but it lacked conviction.

"I might be. I'm still a good ruler. Look, you're obviously a bit confused. Go home, think about things a bit, see what you decide. I'll wait here. I'm not one to try and thwart prophecy."

"...okay"

Shrive watched the Chosen One walk off, scratching his head in confusion. Just after he crossed around the corner, Shrive heard a meaty ripping noise. A guard poked his head around the corner and gave him the thumbs up.

"God, I love the stupid," said Shrive, turning back to his paperwork.

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