Special Guest Blogger: Phalaris of Acragas

If you close your eyes and picture your ideal death you are probably picturing either an elderly version of yourself peacefully snoring into the Grim Reapers embrace or some other dignified departure from this mortal plain but if you are picturing your final moments screaming while you are roasted alive inside a metal hollow torture chamber shaped like a bull than i'm your man.   
All things considered i was a pretty decent leader, i built Sicily into a prosperous, well-equipped place with amphitheaters, residential housing blocks, granary buildings, aqueducts, public baths, triumphal arches and a bronze bull statue with a trapdoor installed in the belly to shut people inside the statue and enough room beneath it to set up a roaring fire.
It was a present from a local blacksmith named Perillos who said that he had made it in such a way that the screams will sound like the bull is bellowing which i found hard to believe so he learnt a valuable life lesson that handing an ingenious execution device to madman was a poor decision so i demanded a demonstration from the inventor himself and had him thrown him inside it, got a roaring fire going and listened and you know what, it did sound like the bull was mooing. Burnt Perillos to a crisp in the process obviously but i thought it was a nice touch.
With my new toy i went on a roasting spree and stuffed victim after victim inside the brazen bull and i was enjoying myself immensely although the people of Sicily not so much because i was overthrown by a citizens uprising and was stuffed in my own metal chamber and though it was much more fun seeing other people inside it, my last thoughts were i wonder what makes it smell so nice inside here, then realised it was the smell of me slowly roasting.