A highly sarcastic phrase and obvious oxymoron, employed in hilarious mockery of the compulsively overcompensating, preposterously petite, inherently effeminate and doubtlessly
delusional mental (and physical)
midget universally loathed as the manlet. Additionally it represents the perfect example of peak manlet cope. Inflicted with catastrophic levels of manletism, brimming with manlet rage and having for decades nurtured the ironically colossal Napoleon complex that is ever-present inside of his pea-brained skull, the low
IQ manlet is amusingly unable to see the biting satire implicit in the devastatingly depreciating description of himself as a Short
King. Because it went over his tiny, little
head. Ignorance is bliss. And so the silly manlet, moronically mesmerized by his manletism-induced delusions of grandeur, fails to realize that the whole world is backhandedly calling him a manlet all the
time, until it finally dawns on him that Short
King and manlet are synonymous and that there is no such thing as a Short King.
Manmore 1: Lol, why is that desperate and diminutive
little manlet boy laboriously dragging around that stolen garden gnome over there? Manmore 2: It must be dwarven date night. Apparently the Short
King has finally found his Prince Charming. Manmore 1: Hahahahaha!