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King of Nonsense

“It’s just a flesh wound,” said the King of Nonsense II, as he swatted away any sense of concern or belief, for that matter, as he flecked at his two bloody stumps.

“But, your grace, the black knight has lopped off both of your legs,” said the aide de camp who pleaded in true Monte Python fashion that the king of nonsense at least take a few days off from leading the kingdom so that he could be fitted with the right prosthesis rather than to continue ruling and risk stumbling off his throne and falling right into a group of unwitting, loyal subjects who would die from the fall as they are crushed by the crashing, corpulent monarch.

But the King of Nonsense would hear none of this because he was absolutely certain that he and he alone could understand the ways of the world, that he was indispensable to the kingdom and was likely sent by God and that it was just a few legs he had lost, something that might bother a weaker man but not the king of nonsense. And anyway, he had gotten two very good prosthesis that were made in a faraway land by the greatest craftsmen in the world at a cost that could only be borne by a king.

It is 10 years later and the King of Nonsense has maintained the throne by convincing his subjects that he planned to step down after the royal auditors had completed their work and his subjects agreed that was the right path to take despite suspicions that the king had secreted away practically all of the kingdom’s gold and riches for use by himself and his children, who were not very bright.

And then the “Black Death” plague struck, as hundreds of thousands, nay, millions of weaklings succumbed because they failed to heed the most up to date advice offered from the most intelligent and advanced scientists of the kingdom of running away from all rats because they spread the disease. But harkening back to his leg-lopping adventure, the King of Nonsense again made a royal decree that anyone found fleeing a rat would be stoned to death for violating the decree and believing the absurd notion that was being put forth by sorcerers that rats could spread the plague.

And one day, it came to pass that the King of Nonsense was musing about the source of his great powers to his royal lady, the queen. He spoke about his own education as a lad when his father, King of Nonsense the First, explained to him that he can swing a pocket watch and hypnotize his subjects to believe just about anything he wanted them to believe.

And they did fall for just about anything because through his long reign, the king of nonsense had convinced all those throughout the land over whom he had sway that they had to prepare to protect the kingdom from an invasion by dangerous men and women who lived in the woods and feasted on babies and sought to overthrow the good and benevolent and all-knowing king.

And these dangerous men and women would stop at nothing to achieve their goals which were nothing less than the total destruction of the wonderful kingdom that the King of Nonsense had largely created even though it was actually handed down to him on a silver plate by his father and he really didn’t have to do much work as the king.

Even the maidens of the land, the king’s courtesans, had fallen under the spell and believed that if the king did something, by definition, it was alright and in fact, was to be welcomed, and could include anything from Golden Showers to grabbing of the private parts of the ladies of the land any time he wished.

And the greatest achievement of his long run on the throne was that he had made believers of most if not all of his subjects to the point that any suggestion that the King of Nonsense might be even a teensy weensie bit wrong would be met by overwhelming and immediate condemnation and flagellation and would be kicked out of the kingdom and exiled to America.

It got so strange that people would look at the portly King of Nonsense and comment on his thin physique, disavowing their very senses and the sight of such an obese personage. And anyone who spoke to the contrary would be labeled “Sleepy Subject” and would be ostracized throughout the land for all of time.

Journalist for 40 years and now a creative writer