"You had your chance Flash Gordon. You could have joined me, ruled by my side, and had wild passionate sex every night of the week (except Thursdays...that's Girl's Night Out).
Instead, you chose to stay with your pathetic Earth woman who wears sensible outfits! So now you must die in the Arena.
Good-bye forever, Flash. Here are some flowers to shove up your nose so you won't have to smell your own stink after you soil your pants.
I won't be staying to watch, so you get to gaze upon my perfect ass one last time as I saunter away to go read a book that Bryce recommended and I'm just starting to get into.
Of course, we'll all just assume that you've been devoured even though you've escaped from this very same arena a dozen times already this month and I've nearly run out of big cats.
Guards! Attend your Queen! I'm feeling needy."