Brethren and Sisthren, the Chronicler had retreated from Twilistia to commune with the Tword and cross over into the new year in deep meditation. Lo, in the quiet place, the Chronicler enquired of the Tword, “When will the land of Gambrach and Gejoshaphat see chill? When will the Chronicles end? How much gaddem unchill can a kingdom withstand?”
Yea, from the void, came the tword of the Tword. Behold, they were ancient words once spoken by the glorious bard of global renown, Mikhail Jaksonovic and yet again they rang true –
Darkness falleth across the land
Electoralis is close at hand
Politicals crawl in search of posts
To terrorise the common good
For whosoever shall be found
Without the funds for getting down
Shall face the hounds of Outcast Hell
And rot inside a poverty cell.
“What meanest thou by these words?” the Chronicler enquired, but Tword would not say. All that was revealed was the word to “Go ye back into Twillistia, for something is afoot.”
“Right now?” asked the Chronicler.
“Sha-Mawnne!” the Tword replied.
Thus did the Chronicler peer into Twilistia and Social Mediana, and maigheeeeeeurd, what a sight!
On the eve of the annum nueva, Mooz Ta Fari the new chief scribe to Gambrach, who had succeeded Balavida, approached the King in his chambers to bring a matter of grave importance to the King’s attention. “Sire, before the hour striketh ushering in the annum nueva, there remaineth the matter of His Majesty’s appointments to the Chocolate Tea Pot Councils. It has been nearly 3 years of our Chocolate Tea Pot Councils having no handles.”
“What? No chocolate tea pot handles all this time???” asked the King in disbelief, looking towards Kyocera, the Head of the King’s Staff at Bedrock. “Didn’t Balavida manage to sort it out before he encountered the kwarapta intrusivo weeds?”
“Majesty, indeed he did, but thou wast in glorious convalescence at the time and he, we, knew not how to make the appointments in thine absence.”
The King asked to see the list of nominees but was thoroughly unimpressed by what he saw. “Are these the best the kings have to offer the people? You know the people remain much pissed off by the persistence of the famine petrolatum. These names must not be the flame to their fuel.”
“Great king, these are the Apicurean gentry – lords and their serfs who stood with us in the battles of the past. Majesty, if I may, these councils are called chocolate tea pot councils for a reason…” replied Kyocera.
“Well, this is not good enough for me. I want ye to comb the Kingdom thoroughly for the best of the best of the Apicurean gentry. And I mean, everywhere! High and low, far and wide. The people deserve nothing but the best – chocolate tea pot or not. Leave no stone unturned! Heck, leave no tombstone unturned even! ”
The King’s men all looked at each other in confusion and the Gambrach saw their hesitation. “You know what? Fetch me FemCallami…”
“My King! My great, glorious, fragrant King! I am here! I am never far from thee! Behold, I was standing at the door waiting for your summons. Leave it all to me, thy most loyal FemCallamitus. I will find the finest, most eminently qualified names in the land for thee! As thou hast said O King, my motto shall be ‘No stone unturned, No tombstone unturned!'”
The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of 57 years
And goony ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal the doom
And though the teapot’s not alive
Its body starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of … the thriller…
- Mikhail Jaksonovic
FemCallamitus thought long and hard about the task with which he had been entrusted. If he was going to leave no tombstone unturned in his quest, he knew he would need the help of one man. Trouble was, the man was a Padipalian (it was complicated, as he had also been an Apicurian) and now a sworn enemy of Gambrach – could he be convinced to come to Gambrach’s aid?
No stone unturned, no tombstone unturned, muttered FemCallamitus under his breath, as he waited for the servants to summon their lord.
“What seekest thou here, thou common, poorly educated scribe?” the lord of the house demanded of FemCallamitus.
“Espirit de corps,” said FemCallamitus, “thou hast also been a King’s Quill, oh great Farhni Kay – thou knowest the burden we bear and more importantly, for my mission, thou knowest things mere men do not.”
“Well, indeed, I do,” said Farhni Kay, his ego having been somewhat stroked, “what demandest thou of me? For thou knowest I canst never side again with thy King.”
“Side with me, then, Comrade. I ask for the help for myself, for I need to visit the Great Beyond.”
“If thou wanted to die, even a corporal in the King’s Army could have put a sword to your heart…”
“Visit, dear friend, not a permanent journey, for tis not yet my time. I need to visit and return.”
“Now, look, dear boy, I am many things, but soothsayer is not one of them, so I’m not quite sure what…”
“…take me to the Illuminati!” FemCallamitus finally spat out. “Thou art the most versed in the ways of the Illuminati. Thou seest their unseen hand where no other man in the Kingdom dost. Thine eyes are not mere ojunus lassan – lo, thou seest with illuminatic eye beyond ephemerality. Only the Illuminati can facilitate the interviews I need to conduct to complete my quest. Help me, Farhni Kay, help me!”
Farhni Kay was quiet, for what seemed like an eternity. “Very well, then. But I must warn thee – there are rules and consequences…”
“I will do what must be done! For this is my mantra – no stone unturned, no tombstone unturned!”
It was the day of the presentation of the members and handles of the chocolate tea pot councils. They would all gather in the square, to be shown to the people as appointed of the King.
There was yet unchill from the petrolatum affair, but the people were curious to see what appointments that took half a quadrannium to make looked like.
One by one, the appointed members and handles came forward to receive their scrolls of appointment from Gar Bar, who presided over the ceremony. Handing the scrolls to Gar Bar, smiling and looking very pleased with himself was FemCallamitus. The ceremony was proceeding nicely.
But lo, just as Gar Bar was about to compliment FemCallamitus on his good work, the lights suddenly dimmed and a dark, putrid stench filled all of Twilistia and in a flash, before the people stood 10…well…the Chronicler must confess that he knoweth what to call the beings that stood there. They were not of the living but they were certainly not quite of the dead. “Give us our scrolls,” they demanded.
“These are the ten special, most eminently qualified appointees of which I spake to thee,” announced FemCallamitus proudly. “I vetted and fetched them myself. They will be the best chocolate tea pot handles ever!”
“YOU DID WHAAAAAAT?” screamed Gar Bar.
“YOU DID WHAAAAAAAAAAT?” screamed the Social Medianites and the People of Twilistia.
“YOU DID WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?” screamed Kyocera from his perch in Castle Bedrock.
“FFS!” screamed Gambrach. “WTF??? GTFOH!!!”
Needless to say, brethren, this time with even Bedrock inclusive, there was not a speck, nary an atom, not even a molecule of gaddem chill in the entire gaddem kingdom!