Special Guest Blogger: Crown Prince Sado

What makes a person fit to be a king? In some cultures mythology, it's as easy as pulling a sword out of a stone while in others, you have to go through the awkward process of killing your father and marrying your mom but in 18th Century Korea it was just a simple matter of falling out of the right mother, in my case the wife of the King.
I became the Prince Regent when my older brother died but being rich and famous and a divine gift from the heavens affords you a lot of perks, one of these is being able to do whatever the hell you want because being a god-king in the waiting, nobody could discipline me as that was considered a mortal sin so aside from some light tutting, i was untouchable.
I was having a wonderful time with the jam-packed social calendar, the binge-drinking, the ready-made excuses for slacking off and the obsession with clothes, the murdering of a concubine, sleeping with a nun, seducing my younger sister and holding no holds drunken bared orgies with the virgins from the village which sounds great then you get in there and remember there are inexperienced virgins and you're kind of like, no, don't put that there..., anyway, you get my point.
It was the daily emptying of the palace of dead bodies and walking around with their severed heads which proved a step too far for my father but as i said, if you can’t murder the staff and carry around their heads when you are the son of a God, when can you but i knew that no one was allowed to interfere with my divine body so i was expecting some more tutting but my father threw a sword at my feet and demanding my suicide.
I obviously refused and reminded the king that 'You can't touch this' therefore pre-dating MC Hammer by a couple of centuries so he had to go think outside of the box with his next idea of how to get rid of me without touching me, by telling me to get into a damn box.
With hindsight, stepping ito the empty rice box was a bit of an error but i thought an hour inside tops then i will be let out, i will mumble something about learning from my mistakes and apologising before going back to hacking up the kitchen staff but once i was in, my father sat on the box to stop me getting out and then ordered it to be sealed and never opened again.
Seven days of suffering from heat torture and food deprivation, i finally stopped making sounds and was declared dead with the official cause of death from starvation but my fathers half-arsed under-parenting was much easier to put up with than his half-arsed over-parenting but in the end he used his whole arse.