Well, you fish for compliments and you get some. Although it is possible there is a large degree of sarcasm in the following:
O Dread and Awfully-Humble Awfulness:
We the Minions are indeed impressed by your marksmanship. We also hope we are prudent enough to be so without giving you cause to prove it to us.
You folks at home, be assured that the Czar is just as good with phased-particle small arms; his last visit to the Supersonic Rocket Ship left us all dazzled and several hundreds of wulongs poorer as shot after shot turned the targets to vapor. Never bet against the Czar, even if (or especially if) you ply him with quantum-aged scotch. (We would have given him the natural stuff if he hadn’t won all of that two visits ago.)
Which story reminds me – we’ve finished our re-supply run to the asteroids, so there is another supply of targets for your next visit. Your stateroom is ready.
Well, thanks, Nightfly! To be fair, the natural scotch disagrees with our humors, so the Czar did not drink all he took. The Czar himself enjoys both bourbon and Irish whiskeybut only the really good stuff. Much of the former, basically little of the latter.
See what a good minion sounds like? This is actually Nightflys way of asking for next week off. Indeed, he has deserved it and thus it is granted. The Czar can be merciful and generous.
Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.