The pestilence of unchill continued to hang over the kingdom of Gambrach but reprieve came in the month of the feast of nativitus. Yea, was it turnt, as the people rose in one accord to eat, drink and be merry, lest they perished.
In that time, there was another wedding of celebritine savour, as the Princess of Ko Tow, daughter of King Tambourine was joined in wedlock to the son of Ser Galman of the province of Snap, Crackle and Pop. And as the hoi aristoi revelled in the celebritine savour of the moment, behold men of the Hezbollah descended upon them and smashed their gourds of expensive mead. Ol’boy!!!!
The Hezbollah were the petit gendarmes of Ko Tow and were pitifully unaware that the were only free to hezboll occasions and venues lacking in celebritine; that their mandate could by no means extend into the courts of King Tambourine. Behold, before the children could recite their favourite nursery rhyme “rice smuggled hot, rice smuggled cold, rice smuggled in a truck, 9 days old“, King Tambourine banished them into inexistence.
In the south of the land, news reached the people that, further to an edict from Obeezee4Sheezee, prefect of commercial reporting in the kingdom, GoDaddy, the supreme domain registrar at roccing dot come, relinquished his seat as supereme overall in the land to another.
Roccing dot come was one of the most famous domains of religion in the land and GoDaddy one of the most renowned supreme overall domain registrars. Another famous registrar, though far less so, was Osinoshin the Comer Comelion, Hand to Gambrach.
And behold, the people of the domain were aghast at the loss of GoDaddy. Other domainers from other domains were also fearful, that the edict would also lead to the loss of their supreme overall registrars, such as PapaDontPreach, Kum’Bayah, Soul Glo, and so on. “Whither the dominion in the land, and the domains, if these great registrars are to be banished?” they cried.
But the domainers need not have feared. For the next morning, before the children could sing their second favourite nursery rhyme, “Ol’ Go slow yes they rob I, strand I still I standing still”, Gambrach arose from deep slumber and banished Obeezee4Sheezee from the prefecture. (Ol’GoSlow was a melody made famous by the great bard Marley Majek. Song otherwise called Redemption Camp).
Many in the land said that Osinoshin had whispered into the non-ManyYears ear of Gambrach, but the Chronicler be not a bearer of fake tidings that have not been brought by the revelation of the Tword.
For fake news was a pestilence, even far away across the sea in Barackistan, where the sun was setting on the second and final quadrannium of the king. A new King, King the Trumpet, was about to blow himself from the Hill, and rechristen the Kingdom Trumpetino.
And behold, sad tidings of great scorn were brought to them and all mankind, that Vladz the Bahdt Guyz had hired the greatest mystic marabouts from the Far East to conjure up demons to impugn the integrity of electoralis in that land. Twas also said that the demon Nepotisto was going to follow the Trumpet into the Palace. But he called it all fake tidings – “Behold, my sons shall administer my trade empire, and the said affairs will not intersect with the affairs of the kingdom, For I have commanded them never to discuss my empire with me. And I am nothing if not a man of honour and the truth always. Yea, does it make me and my hands tremendous.”
The King of the kingdom of Zico, neighbour to Trumpetino, heard the proclamation and said “What? Oh no, thou didsnt!”
*We now take a break from the regular chronicles to bring you a message from our Papyrus sponsor…hehehe…just joke of Chronicler and unique way to segue back to the land of Gambrach…*
Because, in the land of Gambrach, news reached the people that the coin of Daisy Annie was about to be confiscated by the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission. Yea, was Daisy Annie still not seen in the land, but it was said that the Everlies had found One gross, Half a Score and Three million Trumpetinion coins in her bank. Some rejoiced, some called it fake tidings, for it was a tremendous amount of money.
And back in Trumpetino, the King of Zico could no longer maintain his chill. “Listen here, the Trumpet” he began,”thou callest thyself a man of truth, yet thou lyest to the Trumpetinians. Trumpy why you lyin’? Oh my gawd! Tell me you lyin’? Thou lyest that thou wouldst build a wall and we the Zicans shall pay. Once have I said it, twice has my voice gone out. Now let it be known, that there is no gaddem way I shall be paying for thy focken wall.”
Whoooooooosh! That is a sound ye knowest. Tis a sound that tells you that throughout the land, throughout the gaddem stratos, there was not an iota of chill anywhere.