Let's assume that say you're me and you find this once-in-a-generation genius, let's call him Postnik Yakovlev, and he can build an absolute masterpiece for you, let's call this building St. Basil's Cathedral, and so after he finishes, your options are to ask him to do another one, give him a shitload of money in appreciation of his wonderful craft or gouge out his eyes and cut off his hands to keep your thing special? Obviously we would all go for the last one which is exactly what i did.
The tower was built for my intended wife Suyumbike, who it is rumoured was not so much in love with me as i was with her but people only draw that conclusion based on the fact that once the tower was built, the first thing she did was climb to the top and promptly threw herself off it to her
death which cast a bit of a shadow over the engagement admittedly.
With the later part of my name being Terrible and not Ivan the Pleasant or Ivan the Delightfully Amusing, you can guess i did have a bit of a temper, i beat my pregnant daughter-in-law to death for wearing immodest clothing which my son took offence to, so i killed him also.
I didn't have a great reputation in Russia at the time but that has undergone a bit of a transformation and the tale of where i burnt down an entire village when they refused to pay me enough respect is now a tale of me showing them the evils of homelessness which it did of course as they stood weeping beside their smouldering huts.
You would think after all the evil i did there would be a come-uppance at some point but i actually died quietly from a stroke in my armchair while playing a game of chess.
Karma eh, i don't get it.
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