Twice upon a time there was a very large king with a very large appetite. This king learned of Bob's cooking skills and conscripted him to work in the kings' kitchen. Bob would only go if the king supplied his every cooking need (new stove, new icebox, new oven, new knives, new butchers' table, new pots & pans, new flooring, new anti- stick coating for the room, lots of air fresheners, etc.) The king was reluctant to spend all that money for meals, so he made a deal with Bob.
     "I'll buy you all this stuff, after I've had some of your meals," the king said.
     "I'll kill you if you don't buy me all this stuff, before I cook your meals," Bob hissed.
     The two argued back and forth for nearly three hours before they came to an agreement. Bob would cook for 3x normal pay, plus benefits and tips, for 1 week. In return the king would buy the new toys, if he liked the material.
     Bob, being the con- artist he is, made all the most delicious food (by normal standards) for the king. At the end of the week the king came to Bob and granted him the new toys, Bob was pleased. He stayed on for close to one year, when the king started to not buy the toys, or order the right food. Bob decided he had had enough.
     Bob went out after dinner one evening and caught some various small, furry rodents. He brought them back and served the king his midnight snack. As the king lifted the silver platter's ornately engraved bell, three wombats (all very rabid) ran at the king and bit him repeatedly. While the wombats were having thier fun, the vampire rabbits decided to hide in the walls and procreate for the remainder of their infinite lives.
     As Bob left the kings castle, he mumbled a few words he had heard a wizard say once, and the castle was sealed in a bottle (with appropriate measures taken) and the king became immortal. But that didn't matter because he was trapped in the bottle that was around his pathetic little castle. He would live forever, feeding the vampire rabbits his rabid blood, helping to spawn several new cross- breed generations of rabid- vampire- rambats.
     The population control never got to be a problem because when the king got hungry, he'd catch, kill and cook whole oven- fulls of rabid- vampire- rambats.
     Bob was proud of his accomplishments, and teachings.
     "Another satisfied customer," Bob said riffling through the sack of money he had swiped on the way out.