The Chronicles of Chill: The Family Jewelleries

jewel

As the reign of Gambrach progressed, the only people in the kingdom with any sort of chill were the Lovengers. The sneezing, defecation, stride, sweating, eating, speech-making and every other thing about Gambrach still filled them with awe and drove them to cry mushy tears of admiration each time. Their number was reducing though, as more of their number struggled to understand the king.

Lar Yi, the councillor propaganda, was Chief Lovenger of the land and twas he who, fearful that the cry of the people might yet penetrate the Many Years’ membrane of the king quickly devised a plan. One morning, as the King walked leisurely in the palace gardens in the morning, sipping on his kunu and juice, Lar Yi approached with his idea.

“Oh King, most benevolent, most chillful, full of wisdom beyond measure, how art thou today?”

“Ah, Lar Yi, what news bringesth thou from the kingdom?” asked the King.

“Oh King, there are some foolish people in the land, seeking to turn the hearts of the billions who love thee against thee. They say change cometh not to the kingdom. And they tell lies – that there is no bread in the land.”

“Well, if they have not bread, then they should eat cake! Though, not the one with chocolates from foreign lands.”

“Precisely, your Majesty. This is why I have devised a new message to go forth from the palace unto the people, that the change they seek beginneth with them.”

“What a brilliant idea of great discipline. Gather my scribes, let them write the grandmother of all change speeches.

And so, the scribes were gathered, including Gar Bar and FemCallamitus and together with the King (or so it was said), they produced the speech. And lo, did Gambrach read the speech unto the people and yea did the eyes of the lovengers well up in tears of adulation yet again. “Oh what an awesome speech of speeches! Change truly beginneth with me.” they .declared. But the others, the wailers, were not amused. “Thou presideth over our growing turmoil, thou puttest not the stealer of the coin behind bars, thou maketh us to lie down beside drying streams to the delight of our enemies, and yet thou sayest change beginneth with us and not thee?”

Be that as it was, shortly after the King had spoken, a murmur began that some of the words spoken by the King were the words of the king of Barrackistan. Lo, did the accusation and stain arise from the people like a plague, because of the words that the King had plagiarised. Hehehe. This is joke of chronicler.

And in the palace, the scribes were troubled, for the allegation was an indictment upon them. Shortly afterwards, clearly with the panic still in the air, Gar Bar addressed the people. “Dear People of the land, it is knownst by thee that thy king is a great, great guy. Behold, as he readeth his speech, did he notice in the glorious splendour of his wisdom, that some of the words put in the speech were wrongfully inserted. Obviously, he knoweth that this doth sound like an innuendo, but he is great and oozes glory. And so, he sacketh the wrongful inserter and admonisheth thee – yes, admonisheth thee all, to focus on change beginning with thee!” Thus ended the word of Gar Bar.

 

 

And the people were filled with the audacity and mendacity of Gar Bar. They were filled with fear of Gambrach, for the following week, he was to sojourn to Barrackistan for the meeting of the League of Kingdoms general assembly meeting. While at the League of Nations, Gambrach was seen together with the King of Barrackistan, wherefore the lovengers proclaimed, “Wawu! Behold the adoration of the King of Barrackistan for our great guy king, Gambrach. Verily, this meaneth Gambrach is great.”

Throughout his sojourn, Gambrach told the nations how Gejoshaphat, not he, was to blame for every single gaddem woe being suffered by the kingdom. And behold, as Gambrach returned, the news spread about the kingdom that Lady PeiPei, wife of Gejoshaphat had laid claim to certain coin that had been confiscated by the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission. It was a great amount of coin, numbering 20 million Barrackistani shekels, which were 420 times more valuable than the coin of the land.

“But Lady PeiPei”, said the everly failers, “thy name be-eth not on the documents of this account and thou be not named as an owner of the account, by the bank. How then, pray tell art thou the owner of the coin within?” PeiPei did not answer but rather approached the magistrate to censure her bank for handing over the coin into the authority of the everly failers.

That night, the people went to sleep in absolute shock. It was a thing most shocking that PeiPei could lawfully come about or be so bold as to lay claim to the Barrackistani treasure. All the people of the land slept very uneasily, moreso the people of senatii and the council of Gambrach, for when they awoke the next morning there was a new song on their lips.

Abushola, whose troubles at Conductivitis were now fewer and further inbetween, together with Lee Ko, the richest man in Monopolia both declared in unison that a great spirit had visited them in the night and had ministered unto them that the way out of the recession, which apparently was more than just a word, was to sell the kingdom’s prized jewels.

“Not our prized jewels!!!!” protested the people, “for we know that it will go the way of its forbears in squalid squander and damnless disappearance.”

“Nah, mates”, said Lady Kem Shun, councillor for the coin, “you is not ge’ing da gist of tings. If we flog these jools, yeah, then we finna get some cash tings  to reduce the amounts we is borrowing. Dis is basic econominicx, yeah, to pawn ya shit when you is broke, innit bruv. It’s mad wicked plan, bruv. Let’s sell the jools, fam, namsayn?”

Behold, the rumblings of unchill again increased in ferocity as the people debated selling the jewels. Chill was long gone in the land, boys and girls smileth not, and out of the corner of everyone’s eye, they saw Shiwajun cooking another pot of Wahala Morghulis soup for YeGunz, head of the house of Apicuria…

 

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The Chronicles of Chill: A Dog has no Name

sad-dog-funny-dog

From time of electoralis and the ascension of Gambrach to the throne, the Kingdom had suffered violence. Usually, the violent would have taken it by force, but the violent were hungry, for there was a pestilence upon the land. There was unchill and it was a-brewing and a-stewing.

 

The people waited to hear a word from King Gambrach but nary a word proceeded from the Palace. Wherefore, the people began to call Gambrach the most outspoken King they had ever had, for he only spoke when he was out of the Kingdom, in foreign lands. Hehehe.

 

And in that time, amidst the fomenting discomfort in the land,  a man named Joe-Hakeem had a falling out with his neighbour. His neighbour came from the north of the Kingdom and his father, like the King was also called Gambrach. Gambrach, it was said, was a very common name. So common, in fact that Lady Yeeshah, wife of Gambrach, was declared not to be the Yeeshah, wife of Gambrach that was wanted in Barrackistan; it was a different Yeeshah with a husband named Gambrach.

 

Lo, in their falling out did Joe-Hakeem decide to rechristen his dog Gambrach. The dog was an adult dog, and it was not certain that the dog was aware of its new moniker. But behold, did the neighbour raise alarm, that Joe-Hakeem had named his dog after the King and lo, did chill depart from their community. Gambrach the dog, formerly known as Doggy the dog, was killed. And yea, the head of the constabulary arrested him and charged him with blasphemy of the royal name, a hitherto unknown offence in the Kingdom. And the people were amazed, for others had named their dogs after Kings in the past quadrannia, with no consequence.

 

“He is apprehended and incarcerated by the constabulary at the behest of Gambrach! He must be!” the people cried.

 

But Gar-Bar, the King’s chief scribe, heard the accusation and rose quickly in defence of his master. “Friends, Twilistians, Countrymen, lend me your ears. If only thou wouldst know the true nature of your king! Your king suffereth from Many Years Disease and heareth not your common talk. Behold, he heareth thee not for many years, and so couldst not have instigated the constabulary.”

 

The people yinmued, for they had grown weary of Gar-Bar’s persistent beatification of Gambrach.

 

“Besides,” Gar-Bar continued, “when he assembleth the spies of the kingdom, that they mayest inform him of the goings-on, he listeneth first NOT to cries of your travails, nor the words of wisdom from the apostles of marketology! No! He listeneth first to the jesters, the fools and the parodists, that he mayest laugh upon the reports of how the kingdom pastiches him! Is he not a great and benevolent king?”

 

The people were not amused and lost further chill, for Gar-Bar had revealed the mind of Gambrach to them, and their cries and travails were not of prime importance. The mother of all unchills would indeed have swept through the land, were it not for the visit of a very august visitor.

 

Far, far away in Barrackistan, there was the high priest of the Book of Faces, dedicated to the god of the Book of Faces, from his time as a youth in the citadel of VardHarla, in the kingdom of Barrackistan. His name was Marcus von Zuck, and Marcus von Zuck chose this time to come to the kingdom.

 

High Priest Marcus was very wealthy, and throughout the four corners of the earth, were men, women and children who worshiped at the temple of the Book of Faces. And he came to bless his followers and give them succour.

 

In the Palace, Councillor Shittinksi looked for his whitest glove, in anticipation of audience with High Priest Marcus, for the followers of Marcus fell under the authority of his prefecture. But Marcus was allergic to bullshit and so avoideth and shunneth him.

 

And there was chill, as the followers showed their High Priest the fullness of the land and besought him to send even more andelic minstrels into the land.

 

But Marcus departed, and a proclamation went forth from Kal El, the Counting Master of the kingdom, announcing what many already knew in their hearts. The Counting Master and his counting crew had counted, and had beheld that the rent was too damn high, and that the land was in a recession.

 

And the people looked to Gambrach in vain, to see if he could see them beyond the parody; if he could hear them beyond his unlooking. Behold, a voice came, as if from the palace. The voice sounded, as if it were the voice of Lady Kem Shun, of Sarf Londinia, who was Gambrach’s councillor of the purse.

 

“Behold, fam! I know tings is wicked bruv, you get me? And this is desperate times of oppression, innit? But that is why we finna cut down the shopping sprees and ting! And just in case youse don’t believe me blad, here’s my two most peng warriors – Time and Patience. I am sending them out to you, so you can know that recession is just a word, mate. Boom, selecta!!!”

 

Brethren, say it with me – the people heard her words, and there was no gaddem chill, no modicum of decorum, no iota resembling it, in the entire gaddem land!

 

Booyakasha!