Cliche that works everytime

The minion scurried out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. Agra, with a sigh of exaggerated boredom, turned his attention back to Qin Jiu. He bounced over to the bed, a king-sized monstrosity draped in silks and furs that looked more like a battlefield than a place of rest, and flopped onto the mattress, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

He grabbed an apple from a nearby bowl—it was bruised and half-rotten, but Agra didn't seem to notice—and took a large bite, juice dribbling down his chin and staining his already messy robe.

"Speaking of Gods," he mumbled between chews, "hear that the Dark Lord's been busy. Killed his brother. Snuffed out the light in the mortal realm. Sounds like a real party."

He let out a bark of laughter, spraying bits of apple across the room.