Chapter XIIIIV: Back At the Castle

The sun disappeared behind the mountains as King Leisorious gazed out the window of his study. Then all of a sudden…

Bang! Bang! Bang, on the door baby!

“It appears our friend, Lady Aguilera has arrived,” said the king to himself.

A great moan filled the hall as the king’s guard opened the front door slightly. He made weird noises sometimes. But that’s the type of security you get when you don’t go with ADT.

“May I help you?” asked the guard.

“Yes, I’m here to meet with the king. It is a matter of grave importance that I speak with him.”

“Ah, you are here, Lady Aguilera!” shouted the Squire as he sort of pushed the guard out of the way and swung the door open fully. “Come right this way. Shall I take your coat?”

“Yes, thank you, Squire Number One.”

“Pardon me, my Lady? Squire Number One?”

“Yes, well, when you die in battle you will be replaced by Squire Number Two, and when he dies, and so on.”

“I’m to die in battle?”

“Yes, and in the most cowardly, humiliating manner imaginable.”

“Oh my.”

“Speaking of the manner in which you’re going to die, I’ve changed my name to Britney Spears. Now where is the king?”   

“Shouldn’t you capitalize the word ‘king?’ You know, as a sign of respect?”

“First of all, we’re communicating verbally. There’s no such thing as capitalization here. Secondly, even if we were writing, he would be ‘the king,’ because titles are only capitalized when placed before a name or when addressing the person to whom they refer, such as ‘King Leisorious,’ or ‘Oh, King, won’t you be a darling and come over here a moment?’ Some writers still choose to capitalize any title when referring to a person, but it’s up to the author, and clearly the author has chosen not to capitalize ‘the king.’ You see? Capitalization is easy if you just put your mind to it!”

“Gee, you’re right, mechanical conventions are fun!”

“Anyway, we’ve been standing here for a while. Will you please take me to the king now?”

“Yes, Lady Spears, I’m sorry, right this way.”

“I know.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Well, since you’re a guy, when I ask you a question, you get a false sense of authority, and when you answer, you attribute yourself with higher intelligence. These things will make it very easy to manipulate you later in the novel.”

“Novel?

The squire and the prophetic-style woman turned to walk up a flight of stairs.

“Yes, many years from now a very handsome, intelligent man, much like yourself, by the name of Joseph will write a novel about all of us. It will become a best seller, and he will become rich and famous beyond your wildest dreams, and will be surrounded by beautiful, partially dressed women all his life.”

“Wow. You think I’m handsome and intelligent, my Lady?”

“Just manipulating you again.”

“Aha! I’m catching on to you, I am!”

“Well of course you are, with that unbeatable wit. You’re a real Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?”

Squire Number One opened a door at the top of the staircase, and he and Britney Spears walked down a hallway until they reached a dead end. The squire looked back at Britney will a cool grin on his face, and then turned back and pushed on a brick in the wall. It behaved in much the same way as a brick in a wall might behave. 

“It’s this one,” said Britney, and pushed on a brick a good foot and a half away from the one the squire had pushed on. “You were close though.”

The ground shook a little as the wall began to rise into the ceiling. It was soon entirely gone, and the hallway led directly into the room before them.

“Lady Aguilera!” shouted the king as he walked towards what was no longer a wall.

“Allow me to present Lady Britney Spears, your majesty.”

“Spears? Whatever, this chapter is far too long as it is, so let’s just get on with the plot, shall we?”

“We shall,” said Britney.

The king, Britney, and the squire all sat round a table. There was an awkward silence for a moment before it was disrupted by the king.

“Will you… excuse us for a moment, squire. Go get us some tea or something, will you?”

“Yes sire.”

The squire walked underneath the hanging wall. The king pushed on yet another brick, clear across the room from the wall, and soon the wall floated back down to the floor.

“I’ve always wondered where it went,” said the king, as he gazed in amazement at the door-wall-thing.

“I’m sure it goes somewhere terrific. But the reason I’m here-”

“Yes, why are you here?” the king interrupted. “You said the other day in the brook by the tree that my kingdom was in grave danger. I would like you to explain that.”

“And so I shall. You see, your majesty, there is a country,” she pulled on a string that was conveniently hanging from the ceiling, and a large map of the entire continent unraveled. She pointed to the map, “Right here, directly to the east of your kingdom.”

“Right there!” shouted the king excitedly, pointing to his kingdom on the map.

“Yes, very good, right there.” She handed the king a cookie. “You can point out your own country on a map. You’re already a step ahead of most American high-schoolers. Anyway, residing within this kingdom is a very evil man. Very evil. From a Judeo-Christian perspective, he’s like Satan. You see, he is planning to kill you and claim your throne.”

The king stopped munching on his cookie for a moment. “How very rude of him! But how can he claim the throne?”

“He’s your half brother.”