I look like a dusty pile of shit.
This is not the way a great King should look. I should appear majestic and grand, with rows of gold and jewels lacing my neck. Instead, I am lying here with a couple hundred rows of decomposing bandages lacing my head.
There are centuries worth of mold growing upon my arms and feet. My skin will crumble if you so much as sneeze on it.
I am not a happy camper.