Know the Harbingers of Your Destruction

Feeble humans. Tied so tightly to your home that you dare not look up into the sky and wonder what horrors lie in wait. Across the vast and countless centuries since my banishment I have mastered technologies and magicks largely unknown to mankind. You study your string theory and your quantum mechanics and fail to grasp what truly moves this universe. I have broken the bonds of time to achieve immortality. You sit in wonder of your plasma screen televisions. I have created the harbingers of your ultimate doom. You fashion shredded chicken meats into crudely shaped crowns for your Burger King (trust me when I say no king of any kind will be able to resist the might of the Eternal Elementals).

Behold, the Moonrock Men!

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Beings of unfathomable strength and size hewn from the living rocks of the moon. At over 30 feet in height, my legions of Moonrock Men are more than a match for an feeble Earth-bound device. Tanks are no match for their superior armored rockskin. I have blessed them with a portion of my intelligence so as to grant them the ability to outwit even your most gifted of strategists. And here on the moon they are so lithe as to be considered the jaguars of Luna. Nothing can save you, humanity. We will start our attack by first bombarding you with boulders hurled from the moon by my Moonrock Men. Shortly thereafter we will land on your pitiful planet. Know, then, the falling comets are portents of doom!

Also, c'mon, guys. We're supposed to be the future dictators of humanity. Cut the in-fighting. It only makes us seem petty.