Chronicles of Chill: Defecation of the Nassholes

 

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Gambrach and Shomolek heard the rumours of the defecations and were greatly troubled. It seemed that the royal reconciliation assignment given to Shiwajun had been a failure, almost like the reign of Gambrach.

“As Head of House Apicuria, what doth thou propose we do to save our party?” Gambrach asked Shomolek.

“O King, may nothing truncate our desire for a second quadrannium of thy glorious reign! But hast thou seen the manner thy subjects in Social Mediana praise Abushola for doing the things which thou shouldst do but do not and saying the things which thou shouldst say but say not? The ears of the Lovengers have even heard him described as more Kingly than thee, glorious Gambrach Jon Snow. He is the Chief Defecator and to stop them from shitting on Apicuria, we must stop him.”

“Hmmmm,” said Gambrach, stroking his chin, “but doth thou possess the artistry of Wahala Morghulis?”

“Wa-what Mo-foolish? Lady KemShun, is that a slang of Jandinia?”

“Never mind, Shiwajun cometh.”

Shiwajun arrived, and with Shomolek, plotted with Gambrach through the night.

When day broke, Shomolek ran into Twilistia, Social Mediana and even Paper Mediana, in full annoyance at Gigex of Kee Jah. “Who the gaddem is this Gigex that he refuseth to appoint wardens of labour? He provoketh me to burning rage mehnn! If he thinketh that because he disseth the king and lives it is okay to diss me, Shomolek, swearraghad I shall banish him!” Why shouteth Shomolek, the people wondered, for Gigex of Kee Jah was Gambrach’s councillor for slavery and also a former king himself, of the Kingdom of Nambria. Gigex answered to Gambrach, not Shomolek.

At that same moment, Heebra Driss, the head of the king’s constabulary proclaimed a summons upon Abushola, in connection with the testimony of some murderous bandits in the gaol.

Abushola heard the noise of Shomolek, saw the summons of Heebra Driss and smiled to himself, saying, “Finally, the Day of Wahala Morghulis is at hand.” He sent for Dinobetes Melitus, his Man Friday, that they might confer on the matters arising. Dinobetes arrived with 15 other Nassholes. As they departed afterwards, they were stopped by constables on patrol, who demanded to know whither they went. “We are Nassholes,” replied Dinobetes, “singing Nassholes. We were rehearsing a special song to pay tribute to King Gambrach at our session at senatii tomorrow. It will surprise him most greatly.” The constables allowed them to pass.

Early the next day, Equerry Mah Doo, the vice-warden of the senateens sent a pigeon to Abushola, who was warden. The men of the king’s constabulary had encamped around his dwellings and he was unable to congregate with the other Nassholes. The constables had also congregated at Abushola’s gates, determined that he would not pass. Abushola smiled and entered into a special room in his house, reaching for a special bag he kept behind the seats within.

Abushola reached into the bag and produced the woman’s headtie. He placed it on the floor. He reached into the bag again and produced female lip colouring. Finally he brought out a black top hat, and placing all the items into a basin, he set them on fire and began to chant.

Alams-alams-alams. Yesiga-yesiga-yesiga. Spirit of the Yelsan Kings Past, imbue me with thy legendary powers of evasion!!!

Shiwajun, Shomolek and Gambrach were breaking bread together in the palace at Bedrock when the news reached them that Abushola was at senatii, in spite of their blockade.

“What kind of a gaddem Wahala Morghulis is this?” Gambrach asked Shiwajun angrily, but Shiwajun was speechless. He suddenly felt old and drained of his powers. They had been thoroughly dribbled by Abushola and thus was the ancient prophecy of the Prophet EazeeDola made plain and fulfilled, “Leg over! ‘Bushola give me leg over! Issallover!

“Quick,” Shomolek said, with urgency, “get to senatii now. Stop them at all costs! Send in the garrison. Or the constables from the Stalking Ambushing Raiding and Stupidity squad. Do something now!”

But it was too late.

At senatii, Dinobetes Mellitus was on his feet addressing the senateens. “Salutations, Warden Abushola, for thou art a wise and wily leader, unlike the men of Apicuria that sit with the King. I sit with them no more, and I know that many stand with me. We wish to renounce House Apicuria and move to our Padipalian home. We ask thy permission to perform the scared rites of defecation, that we may become Padipalians again.”

“Ye may proceed,” responded Abushola.

The senateen sarjent led a procession of the senateens into Social Mediana and Twilistia that all might see them. He lit the lavender candles of defecation and spread a flag with the Apicurian sigil on the floor. Dinobetes and the 15 senateens stripped themselves of their garments, remaining only in their loincloth.

“Recite the Affirmatio,” said the sarjent. The senateens closed their eyes and began to chant.

“We renounce Apicuria and rededicate ourselves to Padipalia; We affirm our faith in self-aggrandisement and our commitment to poor, nay, zero governance. Politicking above all, world without end. Amen.

They opened their eyes and behold, they had been joined in the Affirmatio by junior senateens, 32 in number. They clasped each other in solidarity.

“Now, bind thyselves and consummate thy rehousement,” commanded the sarjent.

The Nassholes then, in turn, removed their loin cloths, and shat fresh shit on the Apircurian flag and were received by a Padipalian senateen, who wiped their posteriors clean with the Padipalian cloth.

The people saw it and were completely disgusted. The stench of the defecation filled their nostrils, and there was no gaddem chill in all of the land!

 

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Chronicles of Chill: Hadi Potter & the Wings of Nostalgia

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In the days following the Apicurian victory in Ekitilopia, the magistratum ordered the bailment of Darth Soukey from the dungeons of Gambrach, for the sixth time. A sixth time, Gambrach and his council unlooked. Behold, their necks were severely stiffened from all the unlooking going on, and the councillors knew not where to look any longer.

The people heard of the unlookment from Bedrock and once again raised their voices in protest. The councillors, weary of the savagery of the people decided to draw lots to determine which of them would respond. Yea, the shortest straw was drawn by Bar Kar, Gambrach’s Head Pharisee, wearer of silken robes of wisdom.

“Friends, citizens, people of the Kingdom! Lend me thy ears. I come to bury Darth Soukey, not to praise him. For he is a prisoner of despicability.”

“Thou art a man of learning in the law, are ye not? Is it not our law that only the magistratum may condemn a man and that the orders from the magistratic bench must be obeyed by all, even the King?”, the leader of the protest asked.

“Aye. Tis in fact the law. But did ye not know, that according to the latin maxim, espouso de my bumbum, the King is in fact empowered to disobey any gaddem order he dislikes?”

“You lie, Bar Kar! There is no such latin maxim.”

“Oh, but there is! The first maxim of inequity. The full saying is espouso de my bumbum rex fit injuria iyalaya anybody.

And the people were incensed. Seeing the rising anger in the kingdom, another of Gambrach’s councillors rose to the occasion. His name was Hadi Potter and he was Gambrach’s councillor for winged chariots. Hadi Potter himself was a winged chariotsman, undergoing his training at the Nogwarts School of Futuristic Flight.

“Majesty, what will surely distil these flared tempers is the rejuvenation of the Royal Winged Fleet!”

“What? Again?” asked Gambrach. “The graveyard runneth over with the corpses of the winged chariot fleets of past quadrannia. The crater left by the huge, repeated expense remaineth in the vaults of the Iron Bank of Boo Jar till this day! Surely, affliction shall not rise an eleventh time?!?!”

“Wot is you talkin’bout, Hadi Potter? Dis ting finna cost a big sum of blaadclat coin which we afi budget for, innit though?” Hadi Potter ignored Lady KemShun.

“Aye, Sire. But verily I say unto thee that it shall be different this time.”

“How so? The people will ask and if we unlook one more gaddem thing in this Kingdom,  I will need a brace like Yode of Ekitilopia!”

“Sire,” said Hadi Potter, “this time around we have thee and thy glorious leadership.” Gambrach looked around to see if everyone else was as bored as he was, but Hadi Potter quickly continued.

“We also have a little something I’ve kept up my sleeve until now.” Lo, Hadi stuck his hand up his sleeve and produced a short wooden stick. “You literally had something up your sleeve”, remarked Oshinoshin. “Marvellous!”

“And what wilt thou do with a stick?” asked Gambrach. Hadi Potter smiled, for what many did not know was that the Nogwarts School of Futuristic Flight was also a school of wizardry. It had been a leading school until a recent downturn in the Kingdom, forcing many of the instructors to relocate to Canardiana with their families. However, his stick was not a mere stick – it was a wand.

Waving the wand over his head, Hadi Potter shouted, “Accio insignia!” and a floating streamer of green and white stripes floated into the room. “Behold, the new sigil!” said Hadi Potter.

FemCallamitus was scared shitless and ran for cover under Gambrach’s throne.

Nyem appelatio!” he yelled, and letters materialised from the ground, forming the words ‘Hot Air’. Shimolek, the new Head of the Apicureans tried to inhale the words, but Hadi Potter restrained him, saying “Behold thy official name!”

Waving the wand a third time, Hadi Potter cried, “Wingardium chariotis leviosa!!!” and with a loud whoosh, wireframes of winged chariots appeared in the King’s court.

The Kings courtiers looked to Hadi Potter for what was to come next but Hadi Potter had collapsed. He was sweating and breathless, and his magic was spent.

“Why start thou something which thou canst not finish?” asked Gambrach angrily. “This is but a twentieth of what is required. What shall we do with a mere 5%?”

Panting heavily, Hadi Potter replied, “Forgive me, my King. I underestimated the effort required to start a fleet. With thy permission, I shall journey to the Jandinian village of Farn Brozos – for powerful sorcerers reside there; and they can conjure the remaining 97%.”

“Thy arithmetic is suspect,” said FemCallamitus, finally recomposed.

“As is thy memory,” responded Hadi Potter with a warning glare.

“Very well,” said Gambrach to Potter, “Go ye to Farn Brozos, take the Code of Esther with you. And godspeed!”

But the people had heard word of the conjurings in Bedrock and they saw Hadi Potter depart for Farn Brozos and there was not a gaddem atom of chill in the Kingdom.

Meanwhile, rumours swirled of defecations, re-defecations and de-defections between Apicuria and Padipalia. Electoralis was truly at hand…

 

 

 

The Chronicles of Chill: The Ekitilopian Second 2nd Coming

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Thus it was, that seven days and seven nights passed but not a word did Lady KemShun say about her certificato de nyansch. Yea, did Bedrock not utter a gaddem either – not Gar Bar, not FemCallamitus, not Barshally, not Lay-Si. To the people of the Kingdom, twas as if all in Bedrock had been infected by King Gambrach’s Many Years Disease.

Within the walls of Bedrock, many machinations were afoot. The King had summoned his Senior Prefect of Nyansch, a man of Gunn named Rubin Kazan, to see whether or not Lady KemShun could be delivered from the accusations of Oluwollic Torontonianism.

“Rubin, my senior prefect, is there a way for Lady KemShun to be saved?”

“Yeah, Rubin blaad, you gonna save me or wot, fam?”

“Tis a delicate matter, my king. The Social Medianites and Digital Perusites are not easily deceived. And thou knowest, o King, even though Ser Balavida of the kwarapta intrusivo yet walketh free, that the legend of thy aversion to evil persisteth. Nothing must lift the scales from the peoples eyes, for electoralis cometh.”

“Hmmm”, thought Gambrach, very Chinese-Movie-Bossically, “then we shall respond with the famous Robust Answer of Great Silence, which cometh only unto men as me with levels upon levels of grace.”

“Yeahhhhbwoi!!! I mean, King! Wakanda forever, blud!” exclaimed Lady KemShun happily.

“Besides,” said Gambrach, “there is the more pressing matter of the throne of Ekitilopia to contend with.”

Behold, brethren, the Book of the Chronicles cometh full circle. For twas only a quadrannium ago that the Tword was first received of Yode of Padipalia and Jekfa of Apicuria, in electoralis for the kingship of Ekitilopia. Yea, a quadrannium passed and like tis family said by the Gaul people, “Plus ca chenji, plus c’est le same gaddem thing!!!” For as it was in the past, twas yet another contention between Yode and Jekfa. Well, perhaps not Yode personally but Nondes Cript, the Hand of Yode, by whom Yode wished to be succeeded.

Nondes Cript said nought, went nowhere and only laid a tepid claim to the throne. It might have been Nondes’s hand in electoralis but it was unmistakably the very loud voice of Yode that was heard by all.

Lo, did Yode deploy every move in his arsenal to frustrate the advance of Jekfa on the kingdom. However, he misunderestimated the full extent of the chenji that had taken place. For Yode at his own second coming, Jekfa was the incumbent who had not the backing of the King (Gejoshaphat); and now the tides had changed and twas Yode who no longer had the blessings of the King (Gambrach).

The Apicurians charged into the kingdom of Ekitilopia with legions of the men of the constabulary, withdrawn from their primary deployment of harassing innocent young citizens on the streets of Boo Jar and Gideria. And Yode, incensed at the occupation of the kingdom by the Apicurian forces, rose to meet them at the city gates in his chariot. Yea, while he was yet far off, an eager constable discharged a bottle of nightshade at him.

But this was no ordinary nightshade, nay. Twas Novichuk-grade nightshade, and instead of merely bringing upon him a temporary blindness, with only a mere whiff it broke Yode’s neck and radius at the same simultaneous gaddem time! Behold, it threw him into a momentary unconsciousness. You see, unlike his bodyguards, Yode was not trained in the art of breath-holding. They were saved, Yode was not.

And when he woke, broken-necked and crippled in the arm, discombobulated by the fierceness of the federal might he had come up against, Yode ran in tears into the village square in Social Mediana singing the dirge of the ancient bard Why Kleft –

“Enemies on the border line, who was the first to fire the nightshade by King Yode’s side?

You said it’s peace sir, but you didn’t want the peace sir, now I nearly rest in peace sir!”

Electoralis came ever closer and the people heard yet nought from Nondes Cript. “Say something we’re giving up on you“, they sang to him. And Padipalian men like the ancient Padipalian historian Rewajius foretold the imminent failure of Jekfa.

And on the day of electoralis, Yode sent emissaries into the kingdom with 35 hundred shekels for all that would cast a vote for Nondes Cript. The Apicurians heard it and laughed, for their emissaries were armed with 50 hundred shekels. The votes were counted and yea, twas Jekfa that was declared King-In-Waiting. Nondes Cript looked up momentarily from the scroll he was reading, shrugged and put his head back down.

But Yode was bitter. And he asked the people of Ekitilopia, “Why have ye rejected me? Did I not sit with thee in thy filth and penury? Did I not eat thy swill with thee? Did I not go on strike with thee when I owed thee thy wages?”

And the people said unto him, “Know ye not that it is written, ‘not everyone that pretendeth to be our guy will inherit the Kingdom?”

In Social Mediana, the people looked at the Apicurians and wondered about electoralis federalis, only a few months away. There was despair at the thought that Gambrach might not be so easily dislodged. How shall we survive another quadrannium of this, they asked themselves.

The Everly Failing at Convictions Commission heard the news of Yode’s imminent shedding of the royal tunic, licked its chomps at the prospect of finally being able to bring Yode before the magistratum. “Send Yode a Raven,” said Mar Goo, “tell him his hour of reckoning cometh.”

But the Everly scribe was giddy at the thought of everly not failing again at convicting Yode and decided to fly a winged-chariot over Twilistia square with a glorious banner attached, saying “Thy files be dusted that thine ass be busted, Yode. Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin, nuccuh!”

And all the people saw it and there was no gaddem chill in the entire kingdom.

Chronicles of Chill: Certificato de Nyansch

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Brethren, there was a consummate unchill upon the land. The scourge of the Yetis of Gawd continued unabated and the people of the kingdom looked unto Gambrach to deliver them from the pestilence. And in the midst of the anguish and gnashing of teeth, FemCallamitus, scribe of Gambrach and member of the King’s spinning quills went unto the people in Social Mediana to give them a message from the abundance of his heart.

 

“People of Middle Earth, why clingest thou so desperately unto thine ancestral inheritance of land even unto death? Wouldst it not be better to yield unto them and preserve thy lives? For it is written in the holiest scriptures, ‘what shall it profit a man to defend his ancestral bequeathment only to become an ancestor himself?’”

 

Yea, were the people utterly pissed at FemCallamitus and responded to him with severe vituperations.

 

Lo the Padipalians declared a week of mourning for the many dead but FemCallamitus was again provoked to fecal regurgitation. “Why declarest thou a mourning when only twenty score people have been killed by the Yetis of Gawd in the quadrannium of Gambrach? Know ye not that twenty-two score died by their hand during Gejoshaphat’s reign? Dost this not shew that ye dwell in greater safety under the beneficent most magnificent reign of King Gambrach?”

 

Behold the people rained curses on FemCallamitus for his utterance, hurling all manner of invectives at his physical and spiritual personage. So ferocious was the response in Social Mediana that it came unto Callamitusina, daughter of FemCallamitus and behold she wept for her father.

 

And lo it was in that day that the travails of Abushola at Conductivitis came to a close. For he had appealed to the Magistratum Supremex and the Lord Judex had declared him justified. Wherefore he came unto the Social Medianites and Digital Perusites with songs of praise, saying “First of, frock your clique and the morghulis ye claim, North-West side when we ride come equipped with game. Thou sayest thou wert a slayer but I trumped thy strife and I bust on Shiwajun, niccuh’s frocked for life!”

 

And lo, did Dinobetes join in the exulation with the song of the ancient bard Mikhail Bubblius, “Let me go hoooooooome, Apicuria sucks, Padipalia rocks, I wanna go home.”

 

Behold the songs of Abushola and Dinobetes were back to back hits. Gambrach thus feared that he would not be able to come to mainland Perusia, wherefore he issued a proclamation unto the people saying, “Wallahi Abushola is a great, fantastic guy! Tis not just I who say so, but the hallowed Magistratum Supremex. Ye knowest that I be the firmest believer in the sanctity of the Magistratum Supremex, even though I heed not their orders and they denied me justice when Shegolas and Yaraz and Gejoshaphat cheated me in electoralis, those bastards! But Abushola is justified and thus I declare that all should be like him.”

 

The people refused to be mocked and sent word back to the King that he deceiveth them not.

 

And of deceit, news came again to the people, brought by the news bearers of the Deluxe Timeses newsbringers. Yea, it was news of Lady KemShun, Purser and Gambrach’s councillor for the Coin. Yea, was it levelled against her that her Certificato of Nyansch was oluwollically torontonian and not of authentic dispensation. On hearing the news, Gambrach summoned Lady KemShun to Bedrock to ask if it was true.

 

“Lady KemShun, what is this I hear? Thou art not properly possessed of a Nyansch certificato?”

“Whaagwan, my King. Nah, mate, it ain’t like that bruv. Haters be telling lies and ting again, ya nuh.”

 

“But didst thou do the Nyansch?” asked Gambrach.

 

“Fam, my Nyansch be intact, man. Look, what it is yeah, is when I dropped into these ends from Jandinia with all the econominix vibes in my medulla oblongata, I was like, mans is too hot to be slumming wiv skreps on the camp tip, so I asked my homeboy Sia if he could swing down from the chandeliers and hook up da gyalsdem wiv rijinal papers, innit? And Sia was like, ‘yo babe, I gat you’ and he called in the Nyansch 5-0 and they sorted me out. I’m pristine, bredren!”

 

“Hmmm.”

 

“No need to be hmmm-ing king. I’s just trying to be like you – Magnificato sans Certificato!”

 

“What?”

 

“Boom, selecta! Leave it, y’get me, yeah?”

 

But the people heard the news of the Deluxe Timeses and the unchill boiled over a little more. Behold, Darth Soukey was ordered released by the Magistratum but the kingsmen of Gambrach obeyed them not. Shimolek succeded Ye-Gun as paterfamilias of Apicuria, after much internal fisticuffs and affray. The refrain from the people of Pottyscum came yet again in Social Mediana – that men are scum.

 

And there was no gaddem chill in the land.