The Chronicles of Chill: Seasons of Empowerment

key3.jpeg

A cloud gathered over the land as Gambrach departed from the Kingdom and lo, it was a cloud of whisperings. There were whisperings of a conditional abdication and severe resistance thereto from the high chiefs in the North. There where whisperings of a mutiny from the garrison. So loud where the rumours of the mutiny that the Lord General Rah Tye of the Dubailese Skyscraper Battalion had to stage a ceremony of fealty to the throne of Gambrach.

“We declare this day that our swords are for the Throne!”

“Uhm…those were the whisperings of which we were fearful” the people responded. “Ah, I see what you mean”, said the General. “What we mean is that we stand behind the Throne, ready at a word to strike!”

“Dude! Thou doth not make it better, bruh” the people replied again.

“Oh, come on! All right, no more euphemisms! We pledge allegiance to the Throne and shall leave matters of statehood to the Kings and counsellors in the land. Happy, now?”

Yea, did the people heave a sigh of relief. But it was only momentary, for the emissary of the Queen of Jandinia came to the people with a message.

“Behold! I come from Jandinia with a message for thee!” the emissary proclaimed.

“You bring news from our King?” the people asked him.

“No, I bring word from her majesty the Queen.”

“Oh, thou bringest a message from Lady Yeeshah?”

“No, my Queen. The Queen of Jandinia. The word from her throne is…”

“…but who you epp?” the people interrupted. “We want to hear from King Gambrach.” But eventually they let him speak, and he also had a warning for the garrison lest they mutiny.

Even Shiwajun spoke against these whisperings. “Behold, and I kid thee not. It shall be a heck of a Wahala Morghulis upon any mutineers. They may have all the swords and horses and arrows and shields and spears, and we may have nought but the hearts in our chests, yet shall our chests outnumber their swords and yea shall a holy Wahala Morghulis be unleashed on any soldier that seekest unfortunatecy.”

And the people were like, “Waaaaawu! Whose chests wouldst thou defend the kingdom with? Thine, surely?” And the thoughts of their chests being pierced with the armoury of mutiny filled them with sadness. Behold, news of their sadness came to the lesser kings. And they purposed in their hearts to do something to lift the sadness.

And yea, it was King Autumn of the kingdom of Ben Way who first came to the rescue of his people. My people need power, he thought. Power to be better. Power to do better. Power to resist the incursions of the land-grabbing herdists. Iskaba! Ben Way will be a flower to shower the people with an hour of empower! No longer shall they cower. Yea, they shall be like Jack Bauer in this hour that I empower. Iskelebete! I say they shall tower and their mood shall no longer be sour! Iskoloboto!!!

And in a frenetic fulmination of phantasmagoric and philanthropic forthcomingness, King Autumn ordered that each young man in the kingdom be given a wheelbarrow to ferry people around, as alternatives to the hackney chariots. For, he reasoned, if they ferry their fellow citizens about long enough, they shall grow in my biceptual  and triceptual stature. And yea, will they be empowered. Behold, I have fulfilled the prophecy of the great prophet, Dijanimus Khalidius – “major key”.

It was a farce. But the Lovengers, starved of anything Gambrachian to love, quickly bequeathed their blessings on Autumn. “Behold a great empowerment!” they declared. “Tis the greatest empowerment we have seen in a long gaddem time. When Gambrach returneth, ye shall see even more powerful empowerment, swearraghad!”

And behold, the people remembered Gambrach again. For lo, there was no news of him. Rather, there was more news from the high chiefs in the North. “Let it be known throughout the land that Gambrach will, shall, must compulsorily and irreversibly serve for two quadrannia on the throne. For it is written, ‘What do ye imagine against the King? He will make an utter end: affliction shall not rise up the second time.'”

“Yes!” said FemCallamitus. “I know not why the enemies of the Kingdom rage. Why do they seek the end of Gambrach’s reign? Have they ever seen a reign so beautiful and sweet? I don’t know much but I know I love him and that may be all I need to know. The King liveth. Even though he speaketh not to his people, nor attendeth to the affairs of the kingdom and spake not even unto me for several moons until the Day of Kingsleycost, yea, I know he liveth. How? Because it is truly amazing how he knocks me off my feet, every time he comes around me I get weak, no King has ever made me feel this way. Selah.”

“And let it be known” the high chiefs in the north continued, “that we are prepared for schism to rent the kingdom asunder should no heed be paid to our word. For reals, yo!”

And the clouds over the land continue to grow in size and darkness, and yea was there a rumbling in the firmaments above and a striking of lightning (for thunder striketh not, regardless of the opinions of the bumbum bard, Tee Maya). And behold, the cloud unleashed all the gaddem unchill inside it, as news reached the Twilistines that Shiwajun and Moozes, who had contested sorely against him, were reconciled. Worse, was news that Moozes was about to leave the house of Padipalia and join Shiwajun in Apicuria. The news was unleashed like a Gambrachian banter and there was no gaddem chill in all the land!

 

The Chronicles of Chill: Inner Bah Yor & the Handling Hand of the King

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In the second year of the first quadranium of King Gambrach, there was unrest in the land for the King had not been seen at successive meetings of his council. The people clamoured to behold their king and hear his soothing voice as he spoke to them yet again about his holy quest to rid the land of evil.

Unbeknownst to them, the King had embarked upon a very awesomely secret and mysterious mission, one whose secrecy was only exceeded in awesomeness by its mystery, and only a select few of his council knew whither he went. Lo, the mission was not even revealed to the chronicler and far be it from the Chronicler to accuse the revealing spirit of the Tword of unknowing.

“Where art thou, O Gambrach”, the people cried. “Speak to us, for the camp of your enemies whispereth that thou art ill.”

“Ye fear too much” said Lar Yi, the King’s councillor for propaganda. “For though the king be a septuagenarian, behold he is the septiest septuagenarian that ever was. Fear not, for he only worketh from home.”

And the people were confused. For Bedrock was the King’s home and the place from where he had always worked.

“Hath he moved to a different castle or palace?” the people asked. “Hath he another official residence? Thy explanation maketh no sense to us. Give us our king!”

Lar Yi cast an anxious glance at FemCallamitus. FemCallamitus looked nervously over his shoulder to see if Gar Bar was in their midst and knew what to say. But Gar Bar was nowhere to be found. It seemeth that he had accompanied the King on the mission most mysterious and secret.

“Look”, began FemCallamitus, “the King only followeth the orders of the meisters and yea, is he chillaxing, that his spirit and body may be renewed unto thy service.”

“But thou informest us previously that his fitness was fiddlistic. Didst thou declare unto us a falsehood?”

“No, twas true!” Lar Yi had come to FemCallamitus’s rescue. “The King taketh things easy, that he might convalesce.”

And the people looked at each other in befuddlement. “Thou confusest us big time, dude.” they said to Lar Yi. “Doth he work from his chambers or another palace or doth he convalesce?”

“Oh, look at that purple moonlight” exclaimed Lar Yi suddenly, pointing to the sky. And the people followed his gaze to see the purple moon. But behold, the moon was white and when they turned back to ask what he meant, both Lar Yi and FemCallamitus were gone. Twas a gbelonic-gbebonic scam.

Whilst the people stood perplexed in their confusion, the scribes of the Parafin lamps came into their midst with scrolls for all to read. When the seals on the scrolls were broken, they were seen to be the chronicles of electoralis federalis through which Gambrach ascendeth to the throne after the quadranium of Gejoshaphat. And the people turned to the Chronicler and asked, “are these thy chronicles?” But lo, they were the chronicles of Gun Yi, who had served the late King Yaraz as Head Scribe.

And Gejoshaphath emerged from the shadows to denounce all that was chronicled of him and his beloved PeiPei in the scroll of Gun Yi. And yea, was there unchill as sleeping memories of electoralis were revived in all their bitter glory. But the King still spake not to the people.

Finally, on the day of Templing, King Gambrach returned from his secret mission and walked into the temple. Behold, the Lovengers were thrown into a revelling of ecstasy proclaiming, “Behold the king! See how he walketh briskly!” And so, was that day proclaimed the Day of Bobriskly.

And yet the King spake not to the people, muttering only the words “Inner Bah Yor”. “Hearest thou, thy king? He speaketh! Oh, he speaketh!” cried the Lovengers.

“What is ‘Inner Bah Yor’?” the people asked. “Is it a mystery of esoteric profundity? And by the way, where is the Moborius, favoured engraver and painter of the King? Twould have been great for him to record this moment for posterity!” But no one knew what Gambrach meant by inner Bay Yor, and no one knew the whereabouts of Moborius, though twas said that he was seen in faraway land, partaking in the new equestrian combat sport of freelancing, not to be mistaken with what the knights of the realm did.

And then word came to the people from senatii that a royal scroll had been delivered to Abushola and Gah-Ra, warden and prefect. “Tis a letter from the King”, Abushola declared. “I shall read it. It says, ‘Shooperoo and Warridoo, how’s it hanging, hombres? Just a line to bring to your attention that the Jandinian meisters have summoned me again and lo, I must depart. I know not the hour or day of my return, so do not ask me.  I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. Dooo doo dooo dooo dooo…when I see thee again. In the meantime, Osinoshin, my loyal Hand, whom thou knowest, shall handle the kingdom until I return. I know that ye wouldest find this pun funny, so ha ha ha. Peace out.”

Yea, did the breeze of unchill begin to percolate in the land. For it echoed the days of Yaraz and his journeys to the meisters in Sah Oud.

Then one of the senateens asked Abushola, “Oh Warden of the senatii and most excellent reader of the royal scroll! Pray, did the King say Oshinoshin would be Pretend King again or just a handler? If he saith only that the Hand would handle, not that he wouldst be Pretend King, we have a crisis most severe.”

Crisis, crisis, crisis!!! The cry went out of their chamber. And the unchill began to swirl. And yea, it took all the deftness that Abushola could muster to quell it. “The law of the land is clear! For as long as the king liveth yet visiteth the meisters, his Hand is Pretend King!”

“But his scroll…”

“Ignore the scroll, punks!”

And there was an easy unchill. Until news reached the people of yet another feast of savoury celebritine, as the daughter of Ban Gi Dah was wed to her betrothed. Yea, did all the private flying chariots in the land assemble at the castle of Ban Gi Dah. And lo, seated and feasting as brothers were Shiwajun, Gejoshaphat, Abushola, Shegolas and Ban Gi Dah – kings and lords for whom the Twilistines and Social Medianites and Digital Perusites had warred against themselves in electoralis. Smiling one to another at the same gaddem table!

The realisation hit the people that Apicuria and Padipalia were mere constructs in the mind of the hoi polloi. The hoi aristoi were one. And there was no gaddem chill in the entire kingdom!

The Chronicles of Chill: The Seventh Bravo Chamber of Gawd

Cave with money

“My Lord the king is slow to hear, because of his affliction with the Many Years’ Disease, but the moment he heareth, behold he swingeth into action.” 

These were the words of one of the many bards of King Gambrach. And yea, did the words come to pass with the King’s banishment of Balavida from his council. The King had finally read of the curious case of corruptio korikonensis  and kwarapta intrusivo and had recanted his infamous Balavidan epistle. And yea, it was FemCallamitus, now shorne of his Kingsleycostlian euphoria that brought the news to the people that Gambrach has commanded his Hand, Osinoshin, to head the inquisition into the unfortunate grass species that prevented succour from reaching those that had been displaced by the cursed tribe of Boko.

And lo, was there another that was banished from the kingdom and marked for inquisition by Osinoshin. His name was Okey-Dokey and he was head of the kingdom’s league of espions. Why was he banished? Well, brethren, it was to do with that ancient prophet Flowing Rider again. For yea, they blew his whistle baby, whistle baby and the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission blew down the doors of a castle in the ancient city of Koh Yi.

As the Everlies swarmed the seventh bravo chamber of the castle, they came upon nought that the Brotherhood of the Blowing Whistles had promised. And then the spirit of another ancient prophet, Oceanic Billy, came upon Magoo and he screamed, “TEAR DOWN THESE WALLS!” And lo, behind the walls were caverns. And yea, when the caverns were smashed was there revealed an almighty haul of tremendous coinage, totalling 47 million Trumpetistani shekels.

GADDDDEEEEMMMMMMM!!!!

Brethren, the unchill that followed was so severe that the Everlies counting the haul broke out in severe perspiratory malaise. Never had the people seen so much coinage in flesh. Even in the famous dramatisation entitled “Coinage Speaketh” featuring the great actors Christopher Tuckerson and Jackson Chan-El5, when the bad guys demanded the 50 million shekels, Tuckerson exclaimed, “who thinkest thou that thou kidnappest? Vauxhall Hallmark?”

And the people demanded in their extreme unchill, “who owneth the seventh bravo chamber?” And speculatio randumus ensued. Some said it belonged to Rotimachus, others said it belonged to Mooh Azooh, former Head of House Padipalia. Some said it belonged to “special friend” of Rotimachus and very quickly Moprah Budfrey came into Twilistia denying that she was a special friend of Rotamachus or that he bequeathed the seventh bravo chamber to her, or that she even owned the seventh bravo chamber. And all believed her, so like Christo Fresh, they said, Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh! Yeah!

Behold, Mooh Azooh also claimed absolutely no knowledge of the ownership of the seventh bravo chamber. First he disavowed the the castle but his disavowment of the castle was quickly disavowed by they who built the castle. So, Mooh Azooh returned to admit that the castle was built at his behest. “People of the Kingdom, tis true I disavowed the castle but yea, did I lie. For the castle was built at my behest but lo, did I not have coin to repay the bank that lendeth me the money. And lo, did they repo my ass. Behold, I own now only a fraction of the castle and knoweth not who owneth the seventh bravo chamber.”

And yea, did 72 hours pass and the ownership of the chamber remain a mystery. Finally, the league of espions laid claim to the vast coin declaring, this money belongeth to our league, for our operations most very covert and down-low. Selah and let it be.

But Gambrach was neither a fan of the Beatles or Paul McCartney and he wouldst not let it be. “In this time of recessio economicus this vast amount of Trumpetistani coin exists without my knowledge???”

And Okey-Dokey replied him, “Your Grace, the clue existeth in the words ‘covert’ and ‘down-low’, bruh. Our league of espions is on a most clandestine mission and the Magoorian Everlies have compromised us.”

“Thou compromisest me, Okey-Dokey!!!” exclaimed Gambrach in royal frustration. “I shall be compromised no further. Summon Osinoshin!” And thus, were Balavida and Okey-Dokey banished from the Kingdom until Osinoshin determined their culpability.

The winds of Malabootay still blew across the land, with foreign scribes accusing King Gejoshaphat of enriching himself unlawfully, to which he replied, “my intercontinental stature riseth and this troubleth you. Haters gon’ hate, ballers gon’ ball and I feel pity for you all.” Semen from the play of Beegue Braw Thurr was not receiving due ostracisement for his molestations, Gambrach had forgone 2 meetings of the council of the kingdom for what Lar Yi termed ‘lighter affairs’. Of course, there was no gaddem chill in all the land!

The Chronicles of Chill: By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them

Watermelons

Brethren, there was finally chill in the land. It was not the chill that passeth understanding for this chill was well understood. It was the chill of the drama that bowled the kingdom off its feet. It was a stage drama scripted by the Orwellian playwright, Monsieur Beegue Braw Thurr of Paris.

For 3 score and 1 and a half dozen days, Beegue Braw enthralled the kingdom with its array of thespians, with names such as the kingdom had never seen before and behold, there was a grand prize for the greatest actor in the play. The people forgot about King Gambrach, who had said and done and was seen very little since he returned from Jandinia. Lo, Gambrach said it unto the people that he would be returning to the Jandinian meisters to perfect his convalescence and yea, was it greeted with a cacophony of silence. An almighty kerfuffulous scandal broke, showing the debauchery of malabootay and yea, was it unlooked by all and sundry, and there was chill.

Brethren, yea was it the season of the ancient prophet Flow Rider and the lost tribe of the whistle blowers. Behold, they blew his whistle baby, whistle baby and let the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission know about vast swathes of coin stolen by officials of the Kingdom. The brotherhood of the Flow Riders blew hard, for an inheritance was promised unto them that revealed. And the whistles only blew of Gejoshaphatic pilferage, for the Kingodm of Gambrach was upright and holy.

And there was chill in the land.

But then, the spirit of the Tword swept through the kingdom and saw the people in a state of unprecedented sub-chill. So happy and chilled were they and so bereft of the burdens of the kingdom had they become that unmarried many and unmarried man clung to women that were neither their wives and copulated in unbridled chillaxation. Such unbridled coitusification rose as a stench and the spirit of the Tword was so displeased that it sent a plague upon the the fetid fields of fornication.

Or so it was said by Ree Yah, the king of the lesser kingdom of ZamfarawayLand, which worst struck by the plague. And yea, was it a plague of Jye-Tiss. King Ree Yah was confounded by the plague and enquired of the court vizirs the source of the scourge. And he went into prayer himself, where it was revealed to him that the plague was sent upon the land because the fornicatometer had passed 40 forns (the metric unit of measurement). “My people, the spirit of the Tword is displeased and we have offended him sorely with our combustions of the flesh. This scourge of Jye-Tiss is upon us for we have exceeded 40 forns. We shall appease the spirit, as is the custom of our state, by the king taking a new teenage bride. And then we must do our best to keep our fornicatometer between 19 and 35 forns only, lest we be visited with another plague.”

And even then, brethren, there was only a mild, fleeting unchill. For the people watched the play of Beegue Braw Thurr. Until the play ended and the actors all exited left. Then, the chief scribe of Gejoshaphat (thou rememberest him, surely), Roo Ben dug out his quill and wrote of the play of Monsieur Beegue.

“My soul magnifies all the gods old and new for the ending of the play of Monsieur Thurr, for it was a gaddem distraction from the whinings of the kingdom. Never have I, Roo Ben, seen such a bad play about grocery in my life. For I know my onions. And I know my fruits. And I know too well when fruit oligarchs masquerade their products with sultry satire.

“In the play of Monsieur Beegue, there were lost of bananas on display. SoLah TiDoh, one of the lady actors, loved the bananas of her male counterparts quite openly. But they were bad bananas. How do I know this? Because I also have a banana. And while I was in the king’s court, I received praise for my premium banana, disbelieving the lies of those who claimed they had seen better bananas. In fact, my banana was once thought to be a plantain and another a cucumber. The cucumber person was colour blind in their left eye though.

“And then there was Left-Eye, the posh actress of mixed heritage who put her fruits on display, claiming that they were fruits that were loved by the high-flying men of the winged chariots in the sky. Gurrrrl, because of my time in the king’s court, I know a thing or two about the favoured fruit of the frolicking affluents. I have seen better fruit than Left Eye had to offer. I see better fruit all the gaddem time. And unlike the downward pointing mangoes and oranges Left Eye put on display, the men of the flying chariots prefer pumpkins and watermelons and coconuts.

“You see, to be a man of discernment is a lifetime’s work. And I have developed quite a taste for fruit. A man of discernment knows his fruits.”

And mygheeeeeurd, did unchill return with a righteous vengeance! Behold, there was no gaddem chill in the entire kingdom!

The Chronicles of Chill: Missingstopheles & The Lost Scrolls of the Kingdom

 

Lost Scrolls

From the days of Ser Lee Sou, the warden of the junior senateens, the Scrolls of the Kingdom suffereth violence and the Lords of the Realm yinmued it by force. Selah.

– Chronicles of Chill, Chapter 41, verse 9.

Verily, I say unto thee brethren, that the demon Missingstopheles (of which ye have heard in a previous chapter), the mischievous sprite of peculiar vanishments, was particularly fond of the Lords of the Realm. Ser Lee Sou was a young man, full of grace and fair of face but his wardenship was short-lived because Missingstopheles had vanished all record of Ser Lee Sou’s attendance at the Citadel of Roan Toe and his Scroll Bacalauratum was never to be seen again..

Yea, while the demon was at the Citadel of Roan Toe, it also beheld the Scroll Bacalauratum of Shiwajun and for a while, it toyed with its existence. First it was there and then it was not, and there was no gaddem chill until it sort of came back. For who dare question the scroll of Shiwajun?

Behold, Missingstopheles, full of testicular fortitude, descended on the scroll of Gambrach vanishing all his scrolls, even the scroll de minimis, causing much embarrassed explanation by the King. For he was a senior man of Gunn and had once been king, so how dare anyone suggest the scroll was not there? But it was Missingstopheles, you see. He made sure the scrolls were missing.

The tsunami of the missingness of scrolls swept even into the house of Gejoshaphat, vanishing the magnum opus written in pursuance of his Scroll de Doctora. Behold, the haters searched high and low for the magnum opus but Missingstopheles had vanished it too. Or it had been kept in the kingdom’s archives as a testament to the cerebro-cranial power of King Gejoshaphat. But that which the people believeth is the former. Selah.

Lo, Missingstopheles wreaked reputational havoc wherever he went. Lo, he even vanished the replica of King Snoop Neffy Neff of Deltonia, before he was carried away to Jandinia in captivity. Yea, he had even vanished Wen Rem, the twin brother of Wen Rems, who was also briefly Warden of the Senate before Chewba-Ka. But, aswerraghad, the demon neverhessperredit when he dared to vanish the scrolls of Dinobetes Melitus.

Dinobetes was a man of extreme learning, with 8 scrolls from reputed citadels, some from beyond the shores of the kingdom. His learning was so profound, that when, filled with rage, he threatened to go into Mimi the wife of Shiwajun and imbue her with offspring, all who heard him misunderstood him – for she arriveth menopause by that time.

And so it was that Missingtopheles went after the 3 most prized scrolls of Dinobetes, from the citadels at Ravadium, Jandinia and Zah-Reeyah. And yea, after the scrolls were vanished, he that vanished them blew news of their state of non-existence to the Journos of the Kalahari. The Kalahari Journos went to town proclaiming, “Dinobetes lyeth about his scrolls!”

Behold, at first, Dinobetes sought to laugh it off, for he was a deep and profound man, not given to frivolities, but the Kalaharins resurrected the Dead Red Pen of Ayedeeveedov and began to make markings, and draw signs and cause wonder. Yea, did the senateens summon the Master of the Rolls at the citadel of Zah-Reeyah to make known if it was truth or alternative truth that Dinobetes was enscrolled.

“Answer us this, Master of the Rolls, dost thou have Dinobetes of House Melitus in thy roll of the esncrolled?”

“Verily, I say unto thee” said the Master, “indeed we do, though he changeth his name. For then he was dubbed by the much uncooler appellation, Knee-Ell. Behold, his transswagerration into Dinobetes!”

“That settleth the matter!” said the satisfied senateens.

“Nay!” cried the the Kalahari Journos. “Behold our red circles and lines made by the lost Dead Red Pen of Ayedeeveedov! Ye knowest when the red line blings, it can only mean one thing! And regardez! Dinobetes performeth the Nsync dance before he taketh the scroll at Zah-Reeyah! Tis an impossibilitum!”

But Dinobetes had been vindicated by his peers. And he rejoiced. Yeah did he strip himself of his finery and came to the square of Twilistia in his loin cloth, his body covered in white war paint, and he sang and chanted a song of victory. “Behold, I am Dinobetes Melitus the great! I am the arrow of truth! I am he that darest to stand in defiance on the streets of Shiwajun! Let this be a lesson, that when a weakling decides to ensnare a warrior, he setteth himself up for the beating of his life. Selah, niccurs!”

And behold, there was laughter and mirth in the land, and the people forgot about the unchill for a little while.

 

The Chronicles of Chill: The El-Farquaadian Gambit

Quill.jpeg

The Day of Kingsleycost had put a spring in the step of the spinning quills. FemCallamitus had a particularly springy bounce in his step. He was full of song and daily refilled his lamp with the oil of hope, like the wise virgins of yore. “My bridegroom, King Gambrach, cometh for me, surely!” he sang, with great expectations. “Will you be ready? Will you be ready? Will you be ready when my Lord shall come?”

Behold, his expectations were not cut short. For like a thief in the night, though he was not one and his arrival was not in the night but early when the cock crowed at dawn, Gambrach returned to the Kingdom from Jandinia in his winged chariot.

The evil detractor-enemies from Padipalia and beyond had rented huge bellows and yea, they orchestrated a heavy gust of wind to blow Gambrach of his feet as he descended from his chariot. However, Gambrach was full of Jandinian fortification and though the bellows blew and caused him to sway and stagger, the King stood firm. And the all Lovengers exclaimed, “Oh what a great and stiff standing of the King! The greatest and stiffest standing the Kingdom has ever seen! How blessed we are to have a King so stiff and firm, against the bellows of the haters!”

Lo, as the King arrived, the scribes of the Kingdom gathered to welcome him. Yea, were there scribes from beyond the Kingdom even, for his long absence had become a source of consternation for the entire global world. “Welcome, O King,” they greeted him. “It gladdens our hearts to see thee back from thy flossing and chilling and big pimping in Jandinia.”

“My what?” asked Gambrach clearly puzzled.

“Thy shooting of the breeze” they responded, “for it was the word of FemCallamitus (who by the way, spake not with thee until Kingsleycost) that thou wert not infirm. Twas also the word of Lar Yi that thou wert hale and hearty. His Highness must therefore have been hanging out with his Jandinian homeboys.”

“Ye mock me, surely” said the King, “for since I was young, yea unto my geriatry of present, I cannot recall a time when I was more infirm!”

“Oh, wawu! So art thou taking over from Pretend King Osinoshin yet?”

“Nay, he shall yet be Pretend King a few days more. For my journey was long and fatiguing. Behold, I have yet more recovery to recover.”

However, very quickly, Gambrach decided the time for Osinoshin’s pretence was over and he came back into the throne room. And lo, as he ingressed the room, the entire council of the Kingdom was there – his ministers and the lesser kings. So, he shook the hand of the nearest councillor and accepted the warm remarks of welcome, then made for the throne. However, he heard the gentle song of the councillor standing beside the one whose hand he had shaken. It was a soft and piercing song of supplication, “Gambrach, Gambrach, here my humble cry! While some others thou art shaking, do not pass me by!”

Gambrach rolled his eyes, for all he wanted to do was sit and preside over the council. Now they were all singing it and he had to shake all their fricking hands. And so he shook them one by one, until none had been passed by. But then he saw that one may have indeed been passed by, or was perhaps not in the room.

“Where is El-Farquaad?” he asked Balavida. “In the Land of the Nethers, your Grace.” came the reply. “Hmmmmm…”

The following day, the time came again for Magoo to defend his prefecture of the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission before the senatii under the wardenship of Abushola. Kyocera had snitched on Magoo’s ess like crazy the last time but the King had returned and Magoo was down with the King, so he was confident.

“Why shouldest we affirm thee as Prefect of the Everlies? Thou art everly failing, after all.”

“My Lords senateens, ye may yet change our name, for the commission faileth not anymore. We have recovered vast vaults of coin stolen from the Kingdom. Behold, the magistrates have convicted former king Jabal of the kingdom of Mah Wah and sentenced him to half a decade in prison. Our noose tightens against many of ye senateens before whom I seek affirmation today. Affirm me with haste, that I may procure thy incarceration with uncompunctious despatch.”

“We see thou comest today with a bagful of jokes, Magoo” said Abushola “dost thou want to be prefect or a mouth of basket?”

“Perhaps, Lord Warden, he might tell us exactly how much he recovereth” volunteered a senateen.

“My Lords, I cannot tell thee the number. As we were counting the recovered coin, we reached the upper limit of our numerology. The numbers as we know them finished. Just know ye this, that it is a HUGE amount of coin.”

Magoo expected to receive his affirmation then. Alas, Kyocera and the Deliverance Squad Squadron had delivered yet another word for Magoo, proclaiming him unfit for the prefecture. And the people were puzzled. For Kyocera and Magoo were both courtiers of the King. “Perhaps they are gladiators and senatii is the arena and Gambrach pits them against each other for the kingdom’s amusement” the people mused.

There was also more puzzlement as the Trumpet blew yet again in Trumpstantinople. The Trumpet had just accused the former king of tapping his booty during their electoralis and then was visited by Queen Mer Kel of Allemagne. King the Trumpet and Queen Kel addressed the people jointly and as they finished, the people called for the customary clasping of royal hands. “Grab her hand, grab her hand!” the people demanded. But the King in his tremendous and bigly wisdom demurred. “Okay, grab her pou sea, grab her pou sea!” they suggested in the alternative. At this point, the revelation became hazy and the chronicler had to put down his quill.

And as the quill went back into the ink pot, the voice of the Tword commanded, “pick it back up gaddemit, for unchill cometh!” So the chronicler obeyed and opened his eyes to the revelation.

Behold, there was a rumbling of unchill in the kingdom, as several copies of a cluster of parchments were distributed across the kingdom by the Kalahari Pseudojourns. Was it a new play by a famous playwright? It certainly had an intriguing title  – “Thou Fallest My Hand, Bruh!” but it was no play. It was an epistle from King El-Farquaad of Dunamis to King Gambrach. And it was two score and ten gaddem pages long! Luckily, the voice of the Tword abridged the epistle for the chronicler. And it read thus –

“THOU FALLEST MY HAND, BRUH (for reals)

Thou fallest my hand, bruh. Thou promised change to the people but in the words of the great bard Amaru, ‘Change? I guesseth change be good for any of us, whatever it taketh to get up out of thy farm. I’m with thee, I ain’t mad at thee…’ I ain’t mad at thee for thou anointest my head with oil and made me king. But thou fallest my hand bruh with the dud change and if the people be mad at thee, they be mad at me too.

“Dude! Why be-est thou aloof? Why chinnest thou Shiwajun and the convocation from which thy reign arose? Why givest thou Kyocera and Balavida the audacity to feel like they running things? Those homeboys are rude, naive, uncouth, inexperienced, clueless and just generally bad news. Thou cautionest them not, and thou fallest my hand, bruh.

“I believe in you bruh, but everything be falling apart under your reign. You my dawg and errthang but unless you bring your A-Game, we are going to lose the throne. The other sheets in this epistle are my blueprint for the turnaround. Don’t let Balavida or Kyocera get their hands on them – if you do that, you be falling my hand again, bruh. Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back
Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan Farquaad.”

It probably helped not that El-Farquaad was away in the Land of the Nethers when the epistle went into circulation but, my gheeeeuuuuurd, there was no gaddem chill in the land!

 

 

When a WhatsApp Broadcast from your Parents FINALLY comes to life

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First of all, a gloat with my learned friends. If they ever sneer at you, asking “What do lawyers really do? Why do you want to collect all that money? Isn’t it just to write ‘heretobefore’?”, wave this judgement in their faces. Good lawyers help clients avoid losing money by asking the right questions ahead of transactions.

Here’s the summary of the case. Fijabi Adebo Holdings Limited bought several cases of ‘soft drinks’ from the Nigerian Bottling Company PLC, makers of Coca-Cola, Fanta, Sprite and those feel-good adverts we see on TV from time to time. The company tried to export the drinks to the UK (yay, diaspora market) but the authorities there found the drinks not in compliance with EU regulation and destroyed them. Bad Market, as is sometimes said. Of course, this was a huge shock to the system of the company, not to mention the financial loss as well, all N15m or so of it. The company sought to recoup this loss by suing NBC and NAFDAC, the Nigerian food and drug regulator.

The company sought general damages of N150 million against NBC, for negligence/breach of duty of care, special damages of N15.1 million, being costs incurred as a result of said breach and N3 million as the cost of bringing the law suit. From the orders sought, as listed in the judgement, the relief sought to be enforced against NAFDAC was “ an order directing [NAFDAC] to carry out routine tests on all the soft drinks and allied products of the [NBC] to guarantee the safety of consumable products [produced by NBC].”

The case turns on the reason for the claimant’s goods being destroyed on arrival in the UK. According to the letter from the Stockport Metropolitan Authority, “[T]he ‘Fanta orange failed due to an excess in sunset yellow colour and both samples failed for excessive levels of benzoic acid.” The samples being referred to here were for Fanta orange and Fanta lemon. It was therefore the claimant’s contention that the soft drinks purchased were unfit for human consumption and that NBC had breached its duty of care.

NBC’s response was that its soft drinks were manufactured well within the regulatory limits set by NAFDAC for production in Nigeria. The benzoic acid was within permitted limits and there was no national limit for sunset yellow. Evidence was led to prove (certificates and testimony from NAFDAC) that the NBC was compliant with NAFDAC and Codex (World Health Organisation Food Standards) and the court agreed. To be clear, the court dismissed the entire claim against NBC.

The claimant tried to suggest that the NBC ought to have known the soft drinks were being exported, since they were loaded into containers in NBC’s premises but that argument went nowhere. The NBC discharged its full legal and moral obligations to the claimant.

Now to the part of the judgement that has gained the most notoriety in its slight misrepresentation. The judge, relying on the following exchange during the cross-examination of the subpoenaed NAFDAC official, decided to order a warning to be printed on NBC labels –

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According to the judge, from this testimony, “it is manifest that [NAFDAC] has been grossly irresponsible in its regulatory duties to the consumers of Fanta and sprite manufactured by [NBC]. In my respectful view, [NAFDAC] has failed the citizens of this great nation by its certification as satisfactory for human consumption, products which in the United Kingdom failed sample test for human consumption and which become poisonous in the presence of Ascorbic Acid, ordinarily known as Vitamin C…” The Court therefore ordered NAFDAC to mandate NBC to include a warning on its Fanta and Sprite bottles that the “…soft drinks cannot be taken with Vitamin C as same becomes poisonous if taken with Vitamin C.”  With respect to the Court, perhaps the basis of the finding should also have been the result of testing and certification, as it was with the other findings of chemical composition. The exchange, as recorded, does not really seem to have much coherence about it. However, the judge had the benefit of observing the witnesses first hand and I didn’t, so I shouldn’t dwell too much on that.

Is there an issue with combining benzoic acid and vitamin C? That’s probably one for the food scientists to tell us. NBC itself says there isn’t, in its statement on the issue here. The FDA in the US doesn’t seem to think there’s that much to worry about either. The ‘harmful’ substance formed when benzoic acid combines with ascorbic acid (vitamin c) is benzene, but it appears to only be harmful in large amounts. I’m a layman where that’s concerned and would be very happy to take guidance from a pharmacist or nutritionist on this point.

What we do know for sure from the judgement is –

  • The claimant failed to find out what the regulatory requirements of the UK/EU were and got burnt (even regular travellers know to check that the ogbono or stock fish in their luggage is permitted across their journey);
  • NBC has shown that its products are safe consumption by both NAFDAC and WHO standards;
  • The Court made no negative finding against NBC.

Are there other health reasons to give up soft drinks? Yes! All that sugar and fizziness never helped anyone except to put on weight and feel bloated. So, give up soft drinks if you want to. You just can’t say it was because of this law suit.

The Chronicles of Chill: The Day of Kingsleycost

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Image with kind permission of @asukwoweb

The scribes of Gambrach were troubled by the absence of their King. For though they spake to the host that encamped around their liege, they heard not directly from the King himself. And when the people asked them, “what news have ye of our king?” the scribes would answer, “Pray ye for his quick recovery.” And the people would ask, “Recovery from what ailment? Tell us plainly, that we may know which of the gods to propitiate.” To which the scribes would respond, “Know ye not that thy king is an old man?” And the people, confused, would ask back, “Ye wouldst have us pray for his recovery from old age?” And the scribes would be irritated and would say in anger, “Depart and be gone! Ye lovers of hateration!”

Thus it was, one day in their weekly scribely gatherings, the men of the spinning quills looked at each other, unsure what they should write. They had tried to be strong in their tarrying for their King but their faith was being tested.

The people were singing the praise of Osinoshin, the pretend King. For unlike Gambrach he was yet within the realm of youth and he spake that which the people desired that Gambrach wouldst speak. And he went to places that the people desired Gambrach to go. And some of the people exclaimed, “Behold, a real king on the throne! See how he surpasseth Gambrach in everything!”

And this didst piss off the league of the spinning quills, for how dare the people think such a thing. Lo, didst they respond with a flurry of angered parchment, “Citizens of the kingdom, do not be unfortunate. Know ye not that Osinoshin is only that which Gambrach maketh and letteth him be? Take ye heed, that if ye see Osinoshin, ye see Gambrach. If he speaketh, tis the voice of Gambrach which ye hearest! Behold, if he polluteth the air by fart, know ye now for shizzle, tis the innards of Gambrach which thou smellest! For Gambrach is supremely supreme, suckers!”

But they were troubled, for real. There whispers of abdication, even as noise came from the northsteros that if Gambrach could not serve for 1 quadrannium and then another, they were entitled to put forward a young and healthy king in his stead. And the quills wondered what would become of them if this happened.

“Brothers, come what may,” said FemCallamitus, “I will write of the mercies of Gambrach forever, I will write of the mercies of the King. With my quill, will I make known his awesomeness to all generations!”

And one of the younger scribes, Bah Shally, was moved in his chest and also made a declaration. “My quill shall bless Gambrach at all times. His praise shall continuously flow from my ink. O magnify the king with me and let us exalt his name together!”

Yea, did Lar Yi, also proclaim with them, “It is a great thing to serve Gambrach! It is a great thing to serve Gambrach; walking in the light of the king. Oh, walk, walk, walk, walk, walking in the light! Since I was young, now I am old, I have never seen our king changeth!”

And as they were all there in their moment of profuse and obligatory adulation, behold there was rumbling of the ground, a closing and shutting of doors and windows and a kanayonic sound effect of nollywoodinian supernaturalism, and the room was at once filled with smoke. And then all who were in heard a deep voice say, “if you love Gambrach, let me hear you say yeah-yeah!” And the quills answered, “YEAH, YEAH!!!”

Behold, the smoke at once cleared, and revealed Gambrachoid flames dancing on the head of the adulating men of quill. And they were lost in an orgasmic frenzy of ecclesiastical griotism. Luckily for us all brethren, right at that very second, the painter Soo Quo was passing by and quickly recorded the scene for posterity. To him we owe the illiustration of this chapter.

And as the flames petered out and the tears fried from their faces, the scribes emerged from the room to testify to the people, speaking a new tongue. Twas revealed that the name of this new tongue was Frivolee.

First to speak was FemCallamitus. “Brethren! People of the kingdom! The spirit of Gambrach descended upon me and lo did he speak to me. Usually, he would call me Callamitus but today he called me by my hibernian nickname O’Scorpion! My king called me Fem O’Scorpion and told me to greet my household. Now I know that my redeemer liveth! And I am blessed from my soul into my loins!”

And Lar Yi and Bah Shally also testified. “Oh what a glorious day! We have heard the voice of our king and dwelt in his presence! Repent, ye haters. Ye mischief-makers! For he returneth soon! And when the king comes, will he find you as diligent and faithful as we the scribes of the spinning quill? Will ye partake of his glorious and tremendous kingdom?”

And then all eyes turned to Lay Si, to hear his testimony. But he testifieth not. Perhaps because he knew the ancient words handed down to the ancient prophet, Kirkus Lazarussia, which sayeth, “Ye shall never go fullus retardus!”  So they turned to Gar Bar. But Gar Bar was full of regret, for he had missed the visitation of Gambrach, having dashed out for a few seconds to make sure that Osinoshin was not being unduly acclaimed. “Dammit!” he muttered under his breath.

Brethren, there was chill in the land that day. Lo, the people were amused, full of mirth and very chilled. That day of visitation came to be known as the Blessed Day of Kingsleycost.

Selah, homies.

 

 

 

VEXIT: A Different Referendum Tale

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The people of Nigeria finally got their wish. After many constitutional conferences with the famous ‘no-go’ areas, where everything could be discussed apart from the things that had any impact whatsoever on Nigeria’s constitutional status as “…one indivisible and indissoluble sovereign nation under God…” there was finally going to be referendum. The people were going to be asked a simple, question – “Should Nigeria remain in its current geographical state?” – to which they would answer a simple Yes, or No.  “If a simple majority of the people vote No,” the President said, “then Nigeria as we know it shall be no more.”

 

The people were divided into Yesmen and Nono camps and it seemed from very early on that the Nonos had wider support from the public. A date was fixed for the referendum and in addition to strategizing on voting patterns, some groups thought it wise to begin to forge alliances ahead of the poll. Very quickly though, there was a protest from the South-East. “It is an outrage that we have only 5 constituent states”, its leaders said. “We cannot vote on the basis of a simple majority of the total number of voters. Rather, each region should be considered as one vote, based on how the majority of its indigenes vote. Like Big Brother Africa or CokeStudio.”

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The other regions quickly agreed. It seemed reasonable enough until someone pointed out that there were 6 regions, with nothing agreed on what would happen in the event of a tie. “If there’s a tie, the President should have the casting vote,” volunteered the North West, which by sheer coincidence, of course, was where the President was from. “It would be an outrage for there to be any other conclusion.” Of course, all the other regions were outraged and none of them agreed to this bizarre proposal, so a neutral umpire was proposed. It was decided that Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe, leading African statesman, enemy of the European Imperialist, would be entrusted with the casting vote in the event of regional deadlock. In addition to his pan-Africanism, Old Rob was also known for the many made up quotes attributed to him. The Nigerians figured it would be nice to have him quoted as having made some other bizarre remark about Nigeria. Very quickly though, to sweeten him up, emissaries from all the regions were dispatched in private jets to Harare, laden with ice-cream of different flavours. His love of ice-cream was a notorious fact.

 

One day to the referendum, it seemed like all the objections were over and the referendum would finally go ahead. However, just as the clock struck one and the mouse ran down, hickory-dickory dock, the South-West leaders, armed with 217 Senior Advocates of Nigeria, marched to the Supreme Court to file a motion for injunction, of utmost national importance. They were outraged, for there had been rumours that large numbers of people were moving in from Chad and Niger to take part in the referendum. The South Western leaders wanted the referendum deferred until the National Identity Card project was completed and it was clear who the foreigners were.

Very quickly, the Association of Chadian and Nigerien Immigrants (ACNI) filed their own counter-petition. They sought to invoke their fundamental human rights of not being discriminated against on the basis of the place of their origin. The case was struck out for the obvious reason that the rights guaranteed by the constitution were guaranteed to Nigerians only. “I find that these nomads have no locus to bring this action and strike it out for being absolutely incompetent and lacking in merit” was the ruling of the Judge.

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However, the use of the word “nomad” by the judge had pissed some leaders off across the entire spectrum of the North. So, they appealed the judgement, alleging that it showed the judiciary to be biased against all persons of whom nomadism was a feature of their culture.

By this time, the South South had grown weary of the squabbling and its leaders took out full pages in all the national newspapers to complain about the plot of the rest of Nigeria to frustrate and truncate the referendum, with the aim of keeping their fangs sucking the blood of oil from the flesh of their land. They urged the other regions to stop faffing about and to get the show on the road.

 

The next day, a major pipeline was bombed by the South South Justice League Avengers Squad. They issued a statement on their website, giving an ultimatum. They would blow up a new pipeline every week until the referendum was held.

 

The President, though determined not to be seen as meddling, knew he had to intervene and set a firm date for the referendum, as the brewing crisis threatened to boil over. He called a meeting of all the State Governors, with the hope that they would be able to calm down their respective constituencies if he gave them certain assurances.

 

“Your Excellencies, the eyes of the world are on us. We need to get our people to stop behaving like dogs and baboons. Their blood is too hot at the moment. We must calm down the polity.” The Governors knew the President was right and resolved amongst themselves to do what was necessary to facilitate the referendum. The first of those things, was to prevail on all the camps in litigation to withdraw their petitions and commit to a new date for the referendum. The rose from the meeting, issued a communique to the press and left the president feeling happy and fulfilled.

 

The next day, as the newspapers were brought to the President for his morning tea in the Presidential Palace Gardens, he noticed to his surprise that large sections of the front pages had been cut out. Irritated, he called for his chief press officer. “What is the meaning of this?”

 

“Meaning of what, your Excellency?”

 

The President raised the paper, so the CPO could see the gaping hole in its front page. “This.”

 

“Oh, that, sir. It must be the printer’s devil.”

 

The President had recently been warned by physician to watch his temper. The pressure of the rupturing nation and the logistics of the referendum were taking their toll on his blood pressure. So, very calmly, he walked into the ante-room to check the papers there. Immediately, he understood why his press team had gone to such snippy lengths.

 

“SCANDAL ENGULFS REFENDUM MACHINE SUPPLIER” screamed the headline. “Ya Allah!” exclaimed the President. A senator from Kogi state had informed the press that the Senate would be investigating the sums repatriated by Mercury Tally Numbers Limited, the supplier, to its home country South Africa.

 

“Foreign businesses cannot just come here and say because they have invested, they can just take out any sums they like. No! I will personally lead a protest into the bank’s server room to block remittances if this is not investigated immediately!” the Senator was quoted as having said. His colleagues in the Senate very shortly afterwards resolved to pass a resolution proscribing the company from operations until the investigation was over. This effectively meant that a new logistics partner had to be found for the referendum.

 

The President sighed and clenched his jaw, tightly. It was time for the gloves to come off.

 

The Chronicles of Chill: Silence of the Gambs

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The season of unchill persisted as the people had no word from King Gambrach. People visited the gallery of Moborious, the King’s chief painter for new pictures of the King, bedecked in a glorious splendour of tear-inducing swag, as of old, but Moborious painted nothing new.

But paintings began to mysteriously appear in the Kingdom. First, of lady Yeesha, the queen, purportedly in the Jandinian vacationary quarters of the King. And many heaved a sigh of relief. “At least our king standeth and at least he liveth!” And Gambrach’s Counsellor for Matters of Citizens Who Had Seen The Light and Fled the Kingdom, Bee Ree, cackled with glee, exclaiming, “He who hateth may yet claim this painting a forgery, nay a photosynthensis of shop. Losers.”

And yea, were there indeed haters who dug up similar paintings from ages past, wherein Gambrach and Yeesha wore the very same garments. Perhaps, insisted the Buhliebers, these are the special Jandinian garments of Gambrach and Yeesha.

Finally, new paintings emerged, first of Shiwajun and Kan Day sharing pleasantries with Gambrach and then of Abushola and Doh Gah. Lo, did Abushola return to the people proclaiming, “Gambrach buzzeth. For yea, whilst it seemeth unto thee that the Gambranic paintings showeth only laughter and not conversation, ye doubt because ye knowest not thy king. Behold, King Gambrach is a king of great witticisms and sardonic insight and our laughter was because, goddam it, the man is funny!”

“What did he say?” demanded the people. “Duh-uh”, came the reply from Abushola, “like I said, wi-tty and fu-nny stuff.”

So, the people chilled somewhat, for at least the fake tidings of Gambrach being infirm and bed-bound at the meisters was fake news. Bad!

The people chilled even further as Pretend-King Osinoshin traversed the land, visiting regions that Gambrach visiteth not and saying that which Gambrach sayeth not, greatly endearing him to the people. Yea, did he even voyage to South Easteros, land of the 5 per centers, where Gambrach had yet to set foot. “We love this pretend-rule of the pretend-king,” the people exclaimed, “for in this fortnight, Osinoshin doeth much to bind the regions of our kingdom together.”

And in this time of love in the Kingdom, King The Trumpet, of Trumpstantinople, felt shorn of the the love of his people. For daily did they lampoon him and remind him of his tiny hands. And he grew weary of it, for his hands were tremendous and big and he had the whole world in them. And so he gathered the men and women of news together and told them they were all just a bunch of girls and he was going to grab them by their pooh-seas. “I am a great and awesome King, you fools, and ye shall totally and utterly not question me. No way, hombres. Henceforth, if ye callest my name, ye shall call it with some gaddem respeck. Ye shall RESPECK. MY. AUTHORITAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

And behold, the unchill rippled from Trumpstantinople across the entire cosmos. The men and women of news called it a spectacle for the ages, for they had never before in all their 44 reigns before The Trumpet seen a king like him.

In the Kingdom of Gambrach, something was afoot. There was a kingdom in the North, called Dunamis, and it was a divided Kingdom, with the people of the North of it and those in the South having frequent clashes. And the clashes would come and they would go. And lo they came again and they went again. And then they came again in the time of the Social Medianites, the Twilistines and the Digital Perusites, who were a generation that recorded every gaddem thing and let it be known far and wide.

The Dunamist clashes raged and it was the Southern Dunamists that were being oppressed. For lo, they were besieged by the Fulannisters, who were known to practice nomadic husbandry and were always in search of greener pastures. The Southern Dunamists were farmers, with fertile land and bountiful harvests. And lo, the clashes arose because some Fulannister herdsmen decided that no farm was too private for breaking into and feeding their livestock. This not only ruined the harvest, but some of the Fulannister herders also bore deadly arms and killed the farmers whose land they forcefully entered into. Yea, did the Social Medianites and Twilistines make it known, especially those who hailed from Southern Dunamis, that they were under siege.

The King of Dunamis was a man named El Farquaad, a Fulannister himself. El Farquaad had served as a councillor during the reign of King Shegolas, but was said to have been one of the number who prevented Gejoshaphat from seeing Ma Roo when the latter took ill. And in the days leading up to electoralis, did he proclaim a great many grievous things  all to ensure that Gambrach emerged victorious. Many grievous things, I tell ya. And I shall tell thee one of the most grievous.

If ye watchest the Game of Thrones, ye knowest that the Lannisters always pay their debts. Well, El Farquaad made it clear, when some Fulannister men were killed by the King Gejoshaphat’s army in the hunt for the evil tribe of Boko, that the life of a Fulannister is a loan and that the Fulannisters would always collect their debt.

Now, of the Twilistines that hailed from Southern Dunamis and cried against the massacre of the Southern Dunamists, was a man named Woo Doo, just like Gambrach’s Councillor for Growing Rice. Unlike that ancient farming Woo Doo however, this Woo Doo was the mayor of the City of Cocoa Paste Bards & Poets. Daily, did Woo Doo tell tales of the blood and gore in Southern Dunamis.

One day, behold, he told how his chariotman’s brother and colleagues had been killed by rampaging Fulanisters but yea, was it fake news. And when Woo Doo realised the chariotman only told the story for Woo Doo bequeath him some coin, Woo Doo handed the chariotman over to the law and told it far and wide that he had regretfully spread fake news. Sad!

But news came from Dunamis that a magistrate had ordered Woo Doo’s arrest on behalf of the throne of Dunamis, and that the Deliverance Squad Squadron had seized Woo Doo from Lagos to deliver him to Dunamis. And lo, unchill spread from the City of Cocoa Paste Bards & Poets into the entire Kingdom. “Free Woo Doo”, they shouted and tagged of hashes. And there was no chill in the land.

Then, news came to the Kingdom that The Trumpet was going to speak to the King of the Kingdom. And all assumed that it would be Pretend-King Osinoshin that The Trumpet would speak to, for as far as they knew, Gambrach could only laugh and smile wittily. He had not spoken to the people so they assumed he could not yet speak . But lo, more news came from Bedrock that it was Gambrach that The Trumpet would be speaking with, not Osinoshin.

“How can Gambrach, who has temporarily relieved himself of the Kingship be the King that The Trumpet speaketh with?” the people demanded.

“Get it right” FemCallamitus answered them, “thou canst not force Gambrach thy King to speak to thee. For he shall speak to thee in the fullness of a time of his own choosing and ain’t nuthing you can do about it, suckers!!!”

And behold, there was not a gaddem iota, nor modicum, nor speculum, nor fragment of chill in the entire Kingdom.