i casually saunter up to Lord Shplane and ask how the hill is, and if its nice being on top of it (or being it). i offer a beer which they gladly accept and drain,

then make a comment on the weather. a boring and inane conversation develops, during which we both have a few more beer and talk about past experiences in life. eventually the conversation dulls and stops, and he looks away for a moment. i brain him with a large medieval mace several times, crushing his skull, and with a sfine upstanding member of society kick the victim off the hill.