Meanwhile, the king began to reconsider. Hadn't his clown served him well for all these years? Fine, so maybe he had failed at the annual meeting of kings, causing the king to become the laughingstock of his monarchical friends. But still, didn't everyone deserve a second chance? The kind ordered a stay of execution.
The impersonator was not impressed. Was this to be his lot? Would he have to mess up majorly again?
The king had the impersonator brought in and began to lecture him. "In this house, only the king gets to mess up royally!" Here the king paused to laugh at his little joke, and then had to wipe the spittle off his collar. "Since you've served me so faithfully for so many years I'll give you one chance to make good. Tonight is the final night of the conference of kings. Success brings you life, failure brings you death. Don't disappoint me."
The impersonator, who wasn't particularly fond of the king at the best of times and was now quite put out, decided to have a little fun at the king's expense before his head went flying.
That night at the conference of kings masked intruders came into the hall and started yelling, "What's with your fixation with death?" The assembled throngs were stunned at the breach of security, and in concert they yelled "Off with their heads!" The masked intruders responded, "See? We told you that you were fixated with death." The kings were infuriated, and their guards made short work of the intruders. The impersonator never got a chance to perform.
That night at the conference of kings masked intruders came into the hall and started yelling, "What's with your fixation with death?" The assembled throngs were stunned at the breach of security, and in concert they yelled "Off with their heads!" The masked intruders responded, "See? We told you that you were fixated with death." The kings were infuriated, and their guards made short work of the intruders. The impersonator never got a chance to perform.
They didn't even kill him. Just sent him to work in the fields.
He was disappointed. The king went to an oral surgeon and didn't spit anymore.
To be continued...
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12 comments:
i feel like all the stories you write are mashalim,like r' nachman of breslav or something. what the nimshalim are, i'm not sure... nor am i sure i really want to know...
Cheerio well said.
Yeah I totally thought you were transcribing a moshel. But you wrote it.
Transcribe? I didn't transcribe anything here. This is all out of my head. And yeah, it does mean something. I'm just not sure what yet.
your peices tend to include quite bit of gore...but yeah, it did sound like a moshel...
Leave him and his students alone to play with their toys.
I liked it by the way. It took Tzvi Freeman’s lecture to make me realize that.
this sounds like a prequel to joshua. maybe his great grandaddy? in any case, why dont you also post it on your site?
CA: How so?
EOW: Then what would be the point of this site?
Well Done! I can see the "and now for the moral of the story!" part though.
J
Really? I can't.
RTS — it was the contrast of your story and R’ Nachman’s stories (and Tzvi Freeman’s presentation) that made me realize I liked it.
Hmm. Meaning...?
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