"Oh, thou art a great programmer Meks of Margarethen."
"Might thine extraordinary skillset aid us in our quest for riches?" they asked.
"As the Webmaster; son of Stallman; brother of the Sun and Moon; grandson and viceroy of Torvalds; ruler of the kingdom of Userspace; emperor of emperors; sovereign of sovereigns; extraordinary hacker, never defeated; steadfast guardian of the tomb of Turing—I command you, the lowly sys-admins, to submit to me voluntarily and without any resistance, and to desist from troubling me with your webdesign requests." I replied.