Chronicles of Chill: The El-Farquaadian Purge

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Brethren, the flames of the saga of Oje Marina were fanned when Lady Yita, head of the King’s Service, revealed to the people that Gambrach was well aware of Oje Marina’s return to the kingdom. “Behold, after our weekly meeting of FECundity, I sought a moment to bring the news of the machinations to him. But yea, he believed I sought a moment of capture, for all he did was look around for Moborious, conjuring him forth with the ancient words, ‘Inner Bahyour’. Wherefore his surprise surpriseth me.”

And Kyocera, head of the King’s staff at Bedrock was livid. “Why tellest thou the people this lie? Confess, Gejoshaphat turneth thee, hath he not?” And all at the FECund could see Kyocera remonstrating with her before Osinoshin. “But the people believe me to have done nothing to stop it”, she protested. “Then why takest thou not the arrow for thy King?” asked Kyocera. “Because,” retorted Lady Yita, rolling her eyes, “ye wilt not ferry me to the Jandinian meisters for my wounds to be tended!!!” And yea, did the storm of unchill continue to rumble.

Thus it was, in that day, that Ro Chazz and the Imolekites expected anon the visit of Queen Uncleflower of the neighbouring foreign kingdom of Libarty. Queen Uncleflower was the first lady in the realm of Frikkar to win electoralis and had spent time as a warden of the Great Iron Bank of Brettonwoodsiana before ruling her people. But the people were alarmed nonetheless, for Ro Chazz was bound to unveil another of his erections.

Lo, this troubled even the scribes and handmen of Ro Chazz. “Oh great and wise erectile King, reconsider this plan, we beseech thee!” they pleaded. But Ro Chazz was adamant. “Wherefore shall I withhold my glorious erection for Queen Uncleflower? Is she not deserving of it?”

“Unbelievably so, sire” replied his goons, “but surely sire, in today’s world of Ser Wine Steene, a king must be careful.”

Yea, twas the day of Ser Wine Steene, mogul of the theatre in Trumpetistan. For his dramatisations, he had achieved great global renown but yea was he now renown for erectile revelations of sexosomatic and predatory nature. Lo, this distinction was not lost on Ro Chazz, for he said, “Behold, unlike Ser Wine Steene, my erection is built of concrete and metal, not flesh. And I shall reveal it to Queen Uncleflower. I am completely firm on the matter. It will be unsheathed!” So the scribes protested no further and shut their ears to the rumbling unchill.

In Boo Jar, it was time once again for Gambrach to present the coinage to the Kingdom. Alas, it coincided with the unearthing of the Shangrilarian Scrolls, wherein the secrets of the well-heeled were inscribed. And yea, did they shew that Mefilius, Warden of the Iron Bank of Boo Jar, together with his Irish mentor, Gym o’Veagh, had acquired winged chariots but had chosen to indicate their ownership in a Shangrilarian territory. Abushola, the warden of senatii, was also named in the Shangrilarian Scrolls. And lo, twas the ward of both Mefilius and Abushola that they remembered not their Shangrilarian affairs, as they suffered from amnesia taxomasis.

Behold, both were present as King Gambrach delivered the coinage to the people. Lady Kem Shun was also present, punctuating the King’s speech with the obligatory “Skraaaaa!!!” or “Boom!!!” or “Yes, fam!” to show her support for the King. Yea, did the King’s delivery last an hour and 9 minutes – and Gyretta was full of praise for the King, for he stood for so long. Even the King was proud of himself – “69 issa very good number, no?” he was heard to have remarked to his courtesans afterwards.

“Oh my King!” proclaimed FemCallamitus after the delivery of the coinage, “thou wert truly magnificent and full of splendour as thou…”

“Thou thinkest I seest thou not in deep slumber?”

“Oh no, my lord” replied FemCallamitus, displaying unusual quick thinking, “the truly open eye that beholdeth thy glory for too long shall wither and perish. Tis why my eyes were intermittently shut. Even Gar Bar’s too. Not so, Gar Bar?”

But Gar Bar had scuppered off, not wanting to be unevenly yoked with a slumberer. The eye that loveth Gambrach neither slumbereth nor sleepeth, he thought to himself, behind the curtain.

And even as the Lovengers proclaimed the greatness of the coinage, the wailers of the kingdom and taken their fine toothcombs and magnifying glasses to pore over its details, and twas clear that there was a huge deficiendo fiscalimensis therein. It could only be plugged by resort to borrowing. Yea, even  Melancholy’s, the global raters of coinage, saw it and warned all the Iron Banks of the world to be wary of the Kingdom of Gambrach.

Naturally, this warning was protested by the King’s Treasury, under the wardenship of Lady Kem Shun. “Nah, mates. We is not agreein wiv the warning from Melancholy’s, ya get me blud? Like’ it’s just their opinion, innit? If it’s just because of the borrowing ting, fam, everybody borrowing though, nuffing new there bruv. If we is doing the quick maffs and paying back as due and all, then Melancholy’s is wrong yeah? And anyway,miss me wiv taking financial advice from peoples whose names means sad, grim and gloomy. My synonyms game is hot, fam!

And the unchill continued to rumble on.

In the El-Farquaadian kingdom of Dunamis, a great unchill was afoot. Momodeen, relative by marriage and boy to bard Samuelo, oracle to the privileged elite, precursor in imagery to Moborius, had foretold of the abandonment of Gambrach by Shiwajun and his westerosi squad. King El-Farquaad believed Momodeen and knew that he had to do something drastic to keep the westerosi allegiance. So he summoned his council for them to have a thunderstorm of brains.

“How shall we appease the westerosi?”

“There is no appeasing them, my Lord. Just see how greatly thou art despised of the Social Medianites.”

“Even unto the intellectuals?”

“Yea, even unto the sapiosexuals, great King. Take no heed of them, my liege, for they thrive only on garrulous verbosity and being sesquipedalian.”

“Hmmmm,” thought King El-Farquaad, “can we not make our kingdom sesquipedalian and flood Social Mediana and drive out these heretics?”

“Yes, but how does this preserve the treaty with Shiwajun and the westerosi, o King?” asked one councillor, to which another replied, “When they see that we are now, uhm, sexy pedallions, they might have a rethink.” He did not understand why there was such a loud outburst of laughter. But he was right.

So, King El-Farquaad sent out an edict that all tutors in the King’s Schools were to be tested for competency. And after they were examined, yea did the number that fell short amount to a thousand score.

“My Lord, shall we conscript the failures into our army? For they shall make up 20 legions easily.”

“We have no army, imbecile. Only the great throne has an army attached to it.”

“Pardon me my Lord. Shall we retrain them, then?”

“Squire,” replied the King, “how shall a seamstress that knoweth not how to thread a needle be retrained? Nay. We shall hire new tutors. And we shall banish the totally failing tutors from the King’s schools. Purge the Tutelage.”

“Banish 20,000 tutors, sire? Twenty thousand????”

“Did I stutter?”

Behold, the news came into Social Mediana and unto the Digital Perusites. And there was no gaddem chill, nary a jot or speculum of it, in all the land!

 

 

 

 

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