-Melkor sighs, and blows a ring of smoke into lors Face, from his comfy cushion in the corner-
Oh Lor darling dearest.
Don't go having delusions, won't you now.
You know very well that I could beat the seven shades from each and everyone of those pan-handling nay-sayers, and that any form of competition should be considered, at best, entirely ceremonial.
And as you know, I'm not a man of ceremony, why dress things up in ribbon?
Why dance about waving your aesthetics like some sort of fondly formed Lepidoptera!!
It doesn't make sense to do so, when you can do things the straight and speedy way.
Apply aesthetics to leisure, yes, in bucketloads if you must, but not when achieving.
You see my point don't you dearest?
Now just be handing over the keys or I daresay I'll have to get up off my chair and proceed with the witty banter punctuated with mild violence and distasteful threats.