Chronicles of Chill: Jekunimous Iyanensis


The unchill in the land was a tempestuous one and it billowed and blew onto the doorstep of Dinobetes Mellitus. Dinobetes was a senateen of the Nassholes, from House Apicuria. Many are the enchronicled chronicles of Dinobetes but none contained such unchill was about to be unleashed.

Thus it was that as Dinobetes was at the Winged Chariot Depot of Boo-Jar, that he was accosted by the constabulary. “Halt! In the name of the law!” the leader of the constables commanded him. “Thou darest interfere with a maker of the law?” queried Dino, “one on His Majesty’s Service to Jandinia for a glorious frolicking?”

But the constables were determined and Dinobetes looked on in regret as his homies departed for the supreme faffing, for the spirit of estacode had descended upon them and they could not think straight.

Wherefore Dinobetes sent a message unto the Twilistines, saying “Behold, I am ensnared of the constabulary!!!” and whereof the Twilistines responded, “Aha! Now thou canst dance thy famous Jekunimous Iyanensis dance, that all might know that thou art not a mere bluffer.”

In this moment, we now deploy the Nollywoodinic tool of flashbacking, for a flashback is required to tell of the Jekunimous Iyanensis dance. When twas said that Dinobetes’ scrolls of learning were of foggy origins, Dinobetes chanted and danced the Jekunimous Iyanensis, warning any who stood in his way of certain doom and damnation. Lo, did he raise the banner again, when the king in his home kingdom of Kogitamia, King Yaya Bellows, began the process to remove Dinobetes from senatii. Yea, did Dinobetes chant King Bellows’ name in Jekunimous Iyanensian dance, brandishing his chest upon stick legs – for verily, Dinobetes skippeth leg day. Here endeth the flashbacking.

And thus it was that news reached the Twilistines that Dinobetes was being hauled to Kogitamia from Boo Jar in locks, stocks and chains. Luckily for Dinobetes, the feast of Beegue Braw Thurr was over, otherwise the Twilistians & Social Medianites would not have been apprised of his perils.

And as they traversed the bumpy pathways and byways towards Kogitamia, Dinobetes thought to himself, “These gaddem constables of the gaddem constabulary! Could they not make my arrest a bit more glamorous? Know they not that it was me that the upstart bard sang the melody ‘Dinobetes, Dinobetes, No faeces?’ the ode to my pimping swag? Anyways, I know Abushola my Lord Warden of senatii will come for me. Then they will know that I am not a man to be arrested without pomp and circumstance.”

The constables were making jokes and passing round a wineskin – drinking on duty, that was how useless they were. But Dinobetes was thirsty and decided he would not refuse a swig if he was offered. As the gourd came closer to Dinobetes, he saw what looked like a vial being emptied in it.

“YE SHALT NOT GETTETH ME!!!” This was the cry of Dinobetes as he got too his feet and jumped out of the constabulary chariot. What happened next would take a few hundred years to be explained by a young man of science named Isaac Newton, but suffice it to say the forces of the moving chariot and the stationery ground converged in the stick legs of Dinobetes and yea, because he skippeth leg day, the result was that he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Lo, did the constables carried him with haste to the infirmary, lest he perished in their hands and was beatified into St. Dinobetes of Melitus. And twas in the infirmary that Abushola finally came unto Dinobetes.

“My Lord Warden, thou comest to deliver me from the hands of my oppressor. Finally.”

“I come in solidarity, Dinobetes,” was the measured response from Abushola.

“Solidarity? But thou art not in chains!”

“Aye, but behold, I stand with thee!”

“Even unto Kogitamia?”

“Good man, is it not sufficient that I stand with thee right now in thine hour of tribulation?”

“Lord Warden, but I am thy dawg, gee. Thee have I stood with in everything. Give the word and let me be delivered unto thee!”

“Dinobetes, my good Man Friday,” replied Abushola with a smile, “forget thou not the words of the ancient prophet Kerni Rojaz, “Thou gotta know whenst to hold’em, know whenst to fold’em, know whenst to walk away, know whence to run!

“Lord Abushola…”

But Abushola cut him off. “Island in the stream, that is what thou art. This was also the word of the prophet. Tis not I, tis the ancient prophecy that must be fulfilled. Tarry awhile, for it is well with thee.” And he made to leave the infirmary.

“Lord Warden, wilt thou leave me at the mercy of King Yaya Bellows?”

“Dinobetes! Of course not! How could I leave thee defenceless? As we speak, I have summoned many of the youths of Kogitamia and they have come with their drums. Tonight has been declared the feast of Jekunimous Iyanensis. They will chant and dance in thine honour, that Bellows might see how popular you still are.”

Dinobetes was crestfallen and lo, did he lose all his chill. And far away in the kingdom of Dunamis, King El-Farquaad saw it all and rubbed his hands in glee. Who said Dr Shey Who of the senatii was untouchable?

But there was too much unchill in the land. The Yetis of Gawd continued to savage the Middle Earth kingdoms and their cries for help pierced the sleep of all. King Roe Chazz of Imolek had run out coin to build his greatest statue yet and levied an ad vlostaturem tax on all Imolekites. Nothing would get in the way of the statue. Osinoshin, the King’s hand, continued to come and go as he had previously done and yet again the people called him, Comer Comer Comer Come elyon.

The kingdoms were a gaddem mess and there was no gaddem chill anywhere.

Chronicles of Chill: The Curious Case of the Coin


And thus it was that Gambrach departed the Kingdom for Jandinia to attend Chorgasm, where once again the spirit of outspokenness came upon him, chasing away that spirit of hermitry that besieged him whenever he was in the Kingdom. Yea, he spake.

First of all, he spake to an assemblage of lovengers desirous of hearing him speak whilst wearing his famed robes of convalescence. And lo, he told them of the fecundity of the quagmire of the Gejoshaphatian quadrannium, of which all had heard ad nauseam. But he spake it again, for he had nary an other thing to say. “O Lovengers, the times of Gejoshaphat were terrible. Behold, there was plunder and pillage of the most amateurish sort. But yea, though we have successfully prosecuted no one, lo have I fixed it. And I deserve some accolades. Whorwhaa.”

Lo, they gave him some accolades.

And drunk on the lovengerous accolades, Gambrach stepped into the grand Chorgasm arena to speak with the other chorganisms who had come from afar. Wherefore they asked him again, at the end of the day’s proceedings, “O great Gambrach of 37 Kingdoms, wilt thou give us a parting word about thy kingdom? Canst we bring our merchandise to North Easteros? And why didst thou not sign Pax Freekanah?”

“You see, in the time of Gejoshaphat,” began Gambrach, to murmurs of Oh shit, not this shit gaddem parable again??? Fortunately, Gambrach was in the land of the meisters and his Many Years Disease ears had just been reset. He abridged his Gejoshaphatian lamentation.

“Okay, okay,” he said, “let me move on to North Easteros. Even though the Haramites of Boko have attempted to capitalise on the technicality of our technical vanquishment of their forces, I can say without too much fear of a reprisal attack from them that North Easteros is somewhat, kind of, like, a bit okayish now. Feel free to bring thy merchandise. As for the other problems affecting the region, I canst not tell a lie, my kingdom brims with the indiscipline of procreation. Lazy people being fruitful and multiplying with reckless abandon. Are they Adam? Was it they who were given the charge? And because like me, many have not even their scroll de minimis, they think like me they are entitled to Kingly perks. Imagine!?!”

Imagine indeed, for the rant of Gambrach was heard on Social Mediana, in Twilistia and even the land of the Digital Perusites. And there was no gaddem chill – for Gambrach had branded them sloths. There was pandemonium as all disavowed the appellation.

FemCallamitus roared into action in defence of his liege, protesting, “People of the land, Gambrach demarketeth thee always when abroad for thine own good. Look at the lifestyles of decadence and seedless grapes they live in these countries – these will not aid us on our rice sufficiency odyssey. Think!”

But the people were not swayed. And there was more unchill to come. For the news bearers of the Sterling Times had brought news into the Kingdom, of Lady Kem Shun, Abushola and Ga Rah and monies spent, not included in the kingdom’s coinage. Lady Kem Shun heard the allegation and was furious. Yea, she went into Twilistia to address it.

“Whaah gwan bluds? What dis ting mans is hearing ‘bout extra-budgetary coins for the mandems of the senatii and junior senatii Nassholes? Dis is a wicked allegations of manifestations of appropriations and infestations inna de vibrations.”

Huh? The people paused, puzzled, for no one understood whether she denied it or not.

“Sterling Times issa wasteman paper. Dem nuh know nothing about the econominix. I is the queen of econominix, ya hear me now? Brrrr!”

Twas the most confusing of denials ever. And Abushola and Ga Rah said nought.

Then came yet more news of stupendous coinings, for Gambrach had taken a gazillion shekels from the Iron Bank of Boo Jar without the endorsement of the Nassholes. They were nassholes, true, but still, this was in egregious breach of the law of the land.

“Knowest thou not, that this is a dethronement-worthy offence?” the people cried unto Gambrach.

“For reals?” Gambrach asked in disbelief. “Dethronement? Even when millions came out to show the people of the south how famous I still am?”

“The law is the law, dude,” came the irreverent answer.

“What shall we tell the people?” asked a subdued Gambrach. “I took this coin not for myself but for the good of the kingdom. Twas to buy a supersonic megatronic spectroscopic flight of Torskanoe fantasy.”

“Yes, Majesty, but they are not due from Trumpstantinople for another two years!”

“For reals????” asked Gambrach.

“Yes, for reals! Shiiii, the coinage for the year is yet to be read even!”

“FOR REALS??? Why does no one tell me anything?” Gambrach asked, exasperated.

“Sire, shall we just tell them that you did not know?” suggested Gar Bar.

“Can’t we blame it on Gejoshaphat?” asked Gambrach.

“Come now, Sire…”

“Okay, okay, alright. Tell them yet again that I did not know.”

Yea, Gar Bar went into the land and told the people and there was a great eruption of laughter at the absurdity of it all. There no chill but there was laughter. And it was from that day that Gambrach was given a new regnal name. No longer would he merely be called Gambrach. He was now to be known as Gambrach Jon Snow.


Chronicles of Chill: The Prophecy of the Zanga


Following the day of Shiwajunfest, news reached the Chronicler that the Tword had found another soul worthy of the divine revelations of unchill. But it seemed this secret chronicler did not in fact know that he had been imbued of the Tword.

The secret chronicler received Tword of Asos, daughter of Gambrach, to whom her husband Noodlinho had now done what Dinobetes Mellitus had threatened to do to Remy Ma, wife of Shiwajun – behold, he had known her and she was with child. And thus was it chronicled by the secret chronicler –

“Only Noodlinho and his wife, Asos, know what it is about their union that drives them to perpetuate one of the most enviable and durable signs of love. They got married last year in a savor of celebritine ceremony. And to prove their commitment, abiding love for each other, and to increase the population of the Kingdom, Asos, we gathered is expecting Noodlinho’s baby. Casting a probing look at the ever reticent Asos when sighted at an event recently, it was glaring to all wandering eyes that she has been noticeably put on a 9-month maternal course by ‘Linho through a legitimate conjugal collaboration. Looking so robust and bigger than her pre-marital figure, the widely acknowledged self-disciplined lady was cynosure of all eyes as onlookers turned their attention on her and began to make some biological permutations.” [He has such a way with words, this secret chronicler.]

Thus was it said of the secret chronicler, “Blessed is he that chronicles without knowing that he chronicles, for out of his quill poureth pure bants.”

In the Crescent Lakes kingdom of King Yade-Ben, after much houdini and alapeanutbuttersandwiches, the time came for the Coinage of Telepathic Apparitional Manifestations (also known as the Coinage of Stalgmighty Stalctites) to be passed into law. The CrescentLakian senatii had read the increadible coinage of fantasy, knowing full well that to achieve this coinage of supremest deficit, Yade-Ben would have to be a miracle-working king of kings. Wherefore they renamed him Yezus.

Behold, as the hour of promulgation drew nigh, the king closed his eyes and raised his hand into the air. The CrescentLakian royal quill was handed to him, and a strong wind began to blow in the auditorium. “Brethren CrescentLakians, this arrogant coinage of hope is an ambiguous expression of your mood. It is historic and euphoric. It is a counterintuitive deficit to definitely fix it. Behold, I append my glorious seal of razzmatazz and bombastic opprobrium.”

A lightning bolt fell from the heavens and then there was calm. “It is done!” proclaimed the Chief Griot. “All hail the king!”

Yezus wept.

Lady Kem-Shun, Gambrach’s Councillor for the Coin, heard of the proceedings in Crescent Lakes and thought to examine the Kingdom’s vaults, to see how much remained. She drew her abacus and after a few beads, she was convinced something was amiss. “Whaaagwan inna dis place, mate? Hath Ser Magoo, head of the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission not brought forth all that he recovereth? Dis a wasteman ting!” But Magoo unlooked.

In Bedrock, Gambrach summoned his Spinning Quills, for he had an announcement of the utmost importance to make to them. “Scribes, I have decided that I will put myself forward in contention at electoralis federalis.”

“I KNEW IT!!!” whooped FemCallamitus, forgetting decorum. The other quills rolled their eyes.

“Sire,” said Gar Bar, with some caution, “but what about the 3 horsemen of the Kakocalypse – Shegolas, Gi Dah and Dan Jumanji have all turned against thee…”

“Aye. But there remaineth one horseman yet – Dool Shalom. He may yet be swayed. And if he be swayed, he may yet sway the other 3. And even if he not be swayed, I am Gambrach. I am King. I am 10 million underaged ballots in the gaddem bank, gaddemmit!”

“Hail our beloved King!” proclaimed Gyretta and Bee Ree.

“Good, good.” said Gambrach. “Now tell them to ready the winged Chariot.”

“Art thou going into the land to tell the people? Into South Easteros to win over the forlorn of the Ipobusinian mischief makers?” asked FemCallamitus.

“Geez, no way man! That’s what I have you guys for. Quillers should get to quilling. I’m off to Jandinia, biyotches!”

“But Majesty,” said Bee Ree, the Chorgasm meeting isn’t for another 10 days…”

Gambrach smiled and said, “Estacode, baby! And if I decide to make an early detour to see the meisters, obu gini any bagger’s consain? Peace out.”

And as Gambrach left in his winged chariot, a delirious spirit descended upon FemCallamitus and he entered into Social Mediania and began to prophesy –

“Behold the ancient words, ever true, written by the Prophet Terrgee, for me and you, deep down in the lungu of the Zanga. Take heed, any that would run against Gambrach in electoralis, can they run faster than the wind? Can they flow faster than a river? Can they rise higher than a mountain? Nay! Hear the words of the Prophet Terrgee yet again, ‘thou canst only run, run, run, run, past Gambrach G, if thou runnest mad!”

And the people heard it. And there was no gaddem chill in the kingdom.