Rigamarole

Once upon a... No, that’s not it. Kemenbar deserves better than some clichéd, over-used opening. Let me try this again. Ahem.

Sunlight streamed through the same window it always did on lazy summer afternoons. It rested on the familiar spot on the floor. More specifically, on a certain familiar red dog in said spot. Clifford Jr., that’s the dog, yawned. (A strenuous activity for him.) Royal dogs rarely do anything. They can be quite the lazy bunch. Clifford Jr. didn't move often, not even when a dragosaur stomped into the throne room.  It wasn't until Gus' large Dragosaurian body blocked every last ray of sunshine from reaching Clifford's crimson fur, that he managed to open his eyelids. Only to close them right after, from the exhaustion of exerting himself so vigorously.

Gus snorted. Not one servant seemed to notice. He decided to try a growl. Nothing. Frustrated now, Gus took a breath. Then he let out a mighty, stained-glass-window-vibrating roar. All he got in return was a stern glare from Tortellini, the surliest of the hobbit servants. Gus could take no more. He marched over to the Royal thrones. With his talons he swiped off the green carpets from their seats. Then he picked up the King's most beloved coaster and flung it against the wall, shattering it. Everyone froze. Hobbits gasped. Clifford Jr. paid attention. Even the sunbeam didn't dare to twinkle.

The surly hobbit, not understanding Gus' urgency, shouted, "What's got into that cursed beast?" I dare say Tortellini wouldn't have survived that sentence had Gus not been otherwise engaged. Just then the Queen slid into the room. Or maybe she bounced. It was really hard to tell. I suppose it could be described as "a sliding bounce", just not "a bouncing slide". That’s something else entirely. And the only reported case of that was when a playground in Alabama was blanketed in radiation to such a degree that not only did the slides come to life, but they went insane with the desire to frolic. But that’s another story. One we don’t have time for.

Not wasting a moment, Gus leapt over the gaping crowd and scooped up Queen Meg. With a sense of urgency not seen on the castle grounds since "The Bacon Fiasco of 2010,” He tore through the passages.  Gus mentally cursed the Queen's insistence on slippery floors. Though he had to admit that they were quite enjoyable on most days. Far from practical, but since when did world leaders care about practicality?

Thankfully, the dragosaur was so practiced at zipping down the slippery halls that he only slammed into the wall around one corner. Leaving a mark that soon came to be known as "The Door That Wasn't." It took an army of hobbits 7 months to repair that section of the castle. Mostly due to their constant breaks for arbitrary meals that no one else knew about. In fact there seemed to be a new meal popping up every other week.

This is the part where we must introduce the other Royal one. His Eminence. The Newly-Coaster-less King. King Nate, himself. Meg noticed something alarming the minute they entered the room. His usual stunning good-looks and arresting charms seemed deflated. More importantly, He didn't seem to notice the ginormous dragosaur that had just bounded into the room. He just stared off into space. Queen Meg ran to him. He took no heed. An unusual thing to be sure.

The King just stared at the same spot in the wall, not acknowledging anyone or anything. “Nate! What’s wrong?” pleaded Queen Meg.  She grabbed his cheeks and stretched them into a smile. No reaction from the King. She showed him how to do it. He remained as stoic as ever. “Why are you being mopey?” she begged. “Come see this, Nate. Gus goes crazy running through the halls. You have to try it!” He didn’t seem to notice that she was talking to him.

Seeing that even her contagious enthusiasm couldn’t reach him, Meg left the room and began pacing up and down the halls. Slowly, a plan emerged in her mind. She called for Gus, who had been making faces at King Nate to no avail. “Gus! You must find Marcello. I’ll need his help. Oh and get Steph, too. We may need her taser...” Gus looked alarmed. “No, not to tase him, just to provide protection.” Gus didn’t look convinced. “Just trust me,” she pleaded. “Oh, one more thing,” She added, “we’re gonna need bacon. Lots and lots of bacon.”

Gus took off to fulfill his mission. The Queen was counting on him. He wouldn’t let her down. Couldn’t let her down. It didn’t take long to track down Marcello. He was where he always was: in the pool. The winged llama couldn’t swim enough. Sure, it soaked his wings and made them useless for a time afterwards but he thought it was worth it. When he swam he felt like he was flying. No one bothered to tell him that he might as well fly. He seemed too happy in the water. Gus got Marcello’s attention with an honorable roar, and then proceeded to explain the situation with a few hand-motions the two had worked out. (It was really surprisingly efficient.) Marcello leapt out of the pool and trotted after Gus.

The two highly unusual animals hurried down the halls, searching for Steph, the Head Bodyguard. A title she deserved and relished. Technically, she was royalty herself, due to her relation to the King. Not one person was brave enough to point that out. Rulers use tasers significantly less often than bodyguards. Gus wasn’t sure where to start looking. Just then, a blur flew around the corner. Crashing into the dragosaur, the blur knocked them to the ground. Marcello wheezed. The poor llama was squished under Gus’ massive body. Gus leapt up. Marcello instantly sucked in gulps of air. “Sorry,” said the less-blur-like Steph, “I just thought I heard someone say ‘taser’.”

Back in one of the many awesome rooms of the castle, filled with fluffy couches and a million TVs and walls and walls of books, The King still sat on the floor. Still moping. To the rest of the world he seemed brain-dead, but that wasn’t the case. Not even close. His eyes seemed to stare straight through the walls, but in truth his mind was active, searching for his sanity. Or at least the scraps he had had just the day before. You see, King Nate had lost it. If we want to get technical it was stolen by his arch-enemy. Regardless of how he came to lose his sanity, the point was he didn’t have it. And he couldn’t find it.

Queen Meg sat in front of him, staring into his eyes. He seemed to stare right through her. She knew something was wrong. And she would stop at nothing to fix it. Footsteps echoed behind her. She spun to see Grate, the castle’s resident doctor/psychiatrist/gardener/break dancer (don’t ask). He held a plate of sizzling, steaming bacon. “C.O.R.P.S.E. sent me with this. If this can’t snap him out it, nothing can.” Grate waved the plate under Nate’s nose. He didn’t move or acknowledge them. He just kept staring at the wall, zoned out. Grate took a step back. “Hmm,” he stroked his chin in a sagely way as all psychiatrists are prone to do, “I feared this day would come. I just don’t know how to break this to you... I fear...you have...driven him insane.”

“You can’t be serious! He’s always been insane.”

“That is true, but I imagine you pushed him past the point of normal sanity into gibbering-and-staring-through-walls insanity.”

“And how did I do that?” The queen questioned.

Grate sunk deep in thought. He scratched his chin, struck his best philosophical pose, and answered, “I suspect with a jab to his ribs, or by interrupting him, or not telling him what you were laughing about, or maybe even by untying his shoelaces. The possibilities are as endless as your attention span is short.”

Queen Meg turned on poor Grate, who not a moment earlier had seemed so sure of himself, and fixed him with a glare. But not just any glare, no, it was the glare of all glares. The likes of which few have been unlucky enough to see and only a handful have managed to survive. Meg said nothing. Grate said even less. Mustering all his strength, he waddled out of the room a dejected and hopeless creature. Some say that he showed an obvious limp after that day, but that’s a subject better left alone.

It was then that Steph, Marcello, and Gus stumbled into the room. Gus sniffed. He could the familiar scent of a broken will. He gave the Queen a questioning look. She pretended not to notice. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. He won’t react to anything.”

“Theoretically...” Steph took a step forward, “Do you think he’d react to a taser?”

“No, Steph. You aren’t tasing him.”

“But...”

“No.”

Steph sighed and reluctantly handed Meg her taser. The four stood in a half circle around Nate, who didn’t seem to notice. Minutes passed as they each tried to think of an idea. Nothing came to mind. Suddenly, they were startled out of their daze by the sound something smacking into the window. They spun to look. There, on the windowsill, stood a toucan. The large black toucan eyed them and held a large piece of rolled up paper in its rainbow-colored beak.

Meg rushed over, lifted the window, and took the paper from the bird. The bird stood on the window sill for a moment. With great precision, he carved the letter “m” into the wood beneath his talons. Then he squawked something eerily similar to the word “power” and flew off into the distance. Meg shrugged and unrolled the piece of paper. It said:

“MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Sincerely,

Mel

P.S. Bring the bacon.”

          “What is that supposed to mean?” Meg wondered out loud. Gus, Marcello, and Steph all shrugged at the same time. “I guess we should go find Mel...wherever he is...”

           Gus started motioning frantically. Only a handful of people could have possibly interpreted the rapid flailing as language, but every single one of those people were present at that moment. They slowly figured out what he was trying to say. “Mel...is...in...the...black...Swiss cheese...”

          “Swiss cheese?” asked Meg.

          “No” replied Gus, “I...meant...forest...I...just...forgot...a...pinky...wiggle...Mel...is...in...the...black...forest...”

          “What are we waiting for then? Steph, here’s your taser.” Queen Meg tossed it to her, “You’ll need it.” The group of four tramped through the castle. Queen Meg sent Marcello ahead to grab a SAM-GT from the armory. He met them at the castle gates. Meg climbed on Marcello, and Steph climbed on Gus. Together, they flew off in the direction of the black forest armed with nothing but a taser, a SAM-GT, a fire-breathing dragon, Marcello’s sharp teeth, a plate of bacon, and the deadliest glare in the entire kingdom.

          They flew for nearly an hour, without speaking a single word. The forest loomed in the distance and gray clouds gathered overhead. As they landed on the outskirts near the scraggly trees by the edge, thundered cracked over their heads. Marcello shivered as a wind gripped his fur. Meg and Steph slid off of the animals’ backs. Side by side, they trudged into the dark, deadly forest.

          Slow minutes passed and all that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the crunching of leaves. They kept walking. Without warning, the thick tangle of trees opened up into some sort of clearing. They realized it was raining. Off in the distance, Meg noticed a figure standing against a tree. She ran to him, SAM-GT trained on the mysterious figure. As she neared him, it was obvious this was Mel. He looked exactly like King Nate. Every single detail was an exact match, with the exception of his smirk. His smirk seemed to show darker, evil plans than what lurked behind King Nate’s kind, stunningly bright eyes.

          Mel chuckled. “Do you have the bacon?”

          “What did you do to Nate?”

          “The bacon first!” He shouted, all the fake calm gone from his voice.

          Reluctantly, she handed over the plate of bacon. “Now, what did you do?”

          Mel didn’t pay attention. He just sniffed the bacon. Delicately, he lifted a piece and dropped it on his tongue. He savored it. For a moment he lost himself in its smoky flavor. A shudder racked his body. He looked up. “What did you say?”

          “What did you do to Nate?”

          “Oh, I let him sniff bacon but didn’t give him any. He’s in shock. But don’t worry, he should be coming around any minute now.” With that, lightning struck the ground in front of Mel. Meg stumbled back from the shock. She thought she heard an evil cackle, then a voice choked with unbearable emotion, then silence. Queen Meg opened her eyes. Mel was gone, but his plate of bacon lay on the ground untouched. She picked it up, met up with Marcello, Gus and Steph. Who had been too busy catching raindrops on their tongues to pay attention to what had been going on.

          They all headed back to the castle. King Nate greeted them at the door. “Is that bacon I smell?” Meg handed him the plate which he quickly devoured. In between bites he asked, “So how’s Mel?”

          “Not good,” answered Meg, “He seemed to have been struck by lightning and winked out of existence.”

          King Nate grinned and began laughing as if he knew some secret that no one else knew about.

          “What?” asked Meg, suddenly suspicious.

          “Nothing, My Queen. Nothing at all.” King Nate continued laughing throughout the afternoon, until Queen Meg threw a marshmallow at his head. Too bad he didn’t realize that his bacon wasn’t as safe as he had thought. But that is another story entirely.