Chronicles of Chill: Lord of the Dance

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As the frenzy of the disbursement of the criminally delayed wages departed the people of Oshunlonica, Shiwajun motioned to a man standing in the shadows. It was the King Ogbenyssius’s head squire, a man named Ayatollah Boyegus.

Shiwajun raised Ayatollah’s hand and presented him to the people saying, “Oshunlonican Apicureans, behold thy incoming King, in whom I am well pleased. Babasopecus…”

“Oparithicus!!!!!” the people responded.

In Bedrock, Gambrach could not believe what his good ear was hearing. At first he thought it was the Many Years Disease, but Lady Kem Shun repeated herself.

“Nah, fam. Y’get me yeah? Is not like I was faking scripts and tings right, but I was fresh off the ships from Jandinia, innit? And mandems was like, yo, IJGB, is you even finking about doing the Nonsensical Youth Suffering & Conscription tings? Whaagwan widdat?You is foreign! And you is like a old birdie now. And I was like, yo mama’s an old birdie. And he was like, nah, calm down me sweets, just slip me a lil something for the blaadclat red tapers and we’ll sort you an exemption thingy-bobbie. So, I was like, phew, yeah, no worries mate, but what’s your name anyway? And he told me, yeah, chill bladd; the name is Associates. Trusted Associates. And I was like rrrrespect, peace, Mr Associates.”

Gambrach sighed. Lady Kem Shun had to depart Bedrock for good.

“Farewell, Lady Kem Shun. Thou hast served thy King well.”

“Cool runnings, bruh.” And with that, she was gone.

The people heard of her misadventure and thought The Everly Failing at Convictions Commission would swoop in. But she was granted safe passage back to Jandinia. And unchill began to rumble again.

Back in Shiwajun smiled and said to Ogbenyssius, “it is done. Ayatollah, what colour will you change the drapes in the throne room?”

Ogbenyssius coughed nervously. “What shall we do about the Padipalians and the Serendipities?”

Ogbenyssius was right to be worried. The Serendipities had chosen Yola Mish as their electoralis champion. He had previously been a senateen for the Oshunlonicans in Boo Jar and was a man of fearsome political consequence, managing to triumph at electoralis whilst he was banished in the dungeons.

The Padipalians were represented by Ser Lemoda of the famed Keleda family of Oshunlonica. It was a family of bards and industrialists. Bards like SolomonO, Bread and Rambo Pacino. SolomonO, a nephew to Lemoda, was of greater renown than Bread and Rambo – Lemoda’s sons – and had purposed in his heart to take time of the mandatory Nonsensical Youth Suffering & Conscription programme and lend his acclaim to his uncle’s cause.

And lo, his uncle was not a man that was lacking in fame either. For beyond wealth, beyond his time as a senateen, Lemoda was a famed dancer. He was known as the Lord of the Dance, and twas him the ancient muses sang in the prophetic melody –

Dance, Dance, wherever you may be

I am the Lord of the Dance says he

And I’ll lead you all wherever you may beย 

And I’ll lead you all in the dance said he!

Yea, would he lead his people in dance and from dance would he arise to lead his people.

Ayatollah and Shiwajun were wary that his dance would trump their nothing, wherefore they raised a cry to the magistrates that Lemoda, like their King Gambrach, was not possessed of the scroll de minimis of learning. Wherefore it was ordered that the scrolls be produced lest Lemoda forfeit his ambitions.

Behold, when Lemoda delivered the scroll unto the magistrates, it was discovered that all his time in the junior citadels had been a severe waste. Wherefore his nephew SolomonO, in defiance, belted out the words of his famous composition, Darmi Doo Roe.

Err Mah Darmi Doo Roe

Amy Omor Baba’olodo

Why not let us mu’jo

E-joe uncle daddy Rambo

And the Oshunlonicans came out in great number to shake their booties for him. And Lemoda the Lord of the Dance led them in joyous gyration into electoralis. And as the tally came in, it appeared the spirit of Babasopecus had deserted the Oshunlonicans, for the Lord of the Dance was ahead of Ayatollah.

Gambrach heard the news from Boo Jar and sent for Shiwajun. “What exactly is thy use to me, Shiwajun. Thou couldst not Wahala Morghulis Abushola – in fact, he smirketh and mocketh thee in Oshunlonica as we speak.. Thou couldst not reconcile our warring factions. And now, thou disposesseth Apicuria of Oshunlonica, which is rumoured to be thy true actual Kingdom? Of what use is a Shiwajun that is not at the wajun of anything?”

“Fear not, my King. I shall return and inconclusivise affairs, that we may regroup.”

“Very well”, replied Gambrach, “but before thou leavest, read with me this parchment which I have received from the knights of the round table of Kwee Lox, on behalf of their brother Ambsalom.”

“Burn it.” retorted Shiwajun, cold as Lagoonian steel.

Thus the people, ready to burst into the greatest dance the world had ever seen, received the news of electoralis inconclusivus, for Lemoda has not sufficiently trounced Ayatollah.

“Fear not, my good people”, Lemoda said to the assembled throng, “go ye now and rest your weary legs. Come back refreshed that Ayatollah mayest receive an almighty funk-up the likes of which no eyes have seen and no scribes may describe. Stay funky, my people!”

Wherefore SolomonO passed gourds of drink around to the people, to refresh themselves before going home. “What is this drink, so divine?” the people asked. “Mixed Mossa”, responded SolomonO.

And as the people dispersed, news began to filter in that Hadi Potter had returned from his quest to establish the Winged Royal Fleet, which he had provisionally dubbed ‘Hot Air’. But he was conspicuously empty-handed.

“Hadi Potter! Whither thy magic? Whither the remainder of our Royal Fleet? Whither the gaddem one and a half billion shekels given to thee to purchase the missing magic?”

Hadi was bloodied and breathless. “It’s all gone! The dementors… the dementors of Jazz Kaban. They waylaid me! They took it all!”

Brethren, the people of the land heard it and they were incensed in their unchill. Behold, there was nary a gaddam speck of chill left in the land!”

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Chronicles of Chill: The Oponimousity of Ogbenyssius

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After the defecation of Abushola to Padipalia, Gah Rah of the junior senateens also defecated and the stench was encapsulated upon the land. Not to be outdone in the shittery at hand, the Apicureans went ambushing the Padipalians and swung the Damoclean sword of the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission over the head of Godsswag, former King of Ibomossotamia.

Then Abushola, filled with defecatory passion rose and declared to the people that he was tired of the torment of them visiting him in his dreams, stoning him with many golden crowns, beating him with many sceptres. He had heard their cry and he would seek to stand for House Padipalia in electoralis.

This filled the camp of Arty Cool with perturbations and lo did Arty Cool burst into tears. For this had been his quest for several quadrannia, so sit on the Iron Throne of Boo Jar, in Bedrock.

And yea, the Lovengers were again full of voice. Whilst even they couldst no longer declare all blessed for the privilege of being ruled by Gambrach, they praised him nonetheless, for that was the kind of not always logical thing Lovengers did.

Behold, in that day rose two other men with designs on the throne. One was Fellax Duroximus, spouse to the High Priestess of Mua, the goddess of penging. The other was a man named Mogallus Prime, a man of great learning who had served the Kingdom as deputy prefect of the Iron Bank of Boo Jar.

When Duroximus was asked why he wouldst be King, he replied “Tis by the throne alone that we can make bread from stone and hone the tone of the cone that keepeth the people in the zone not of cologne, causing them to moan and groan in a place where light should have shone!” Lo, the people nodded in befuddled agreement.

And when Mogallus was asked, he responded saying, “Behold, my stewardship to the country possesseth international exposure, lo my learning is Harvardian and yea am I not a small boy.”

Thus it was that one day, Duroximus came upon Mogallus returning from his many travels across the Kingdom to bring the people to his side for electoralis. “Mogallus,” hailed Duroximus, “why exerteth thyself so? See ye not myself and several others who do not traverse the kingdom and yet enjoy the followage of the Social Medianites? Knowest thou not that traverse is perverse for those averse and who can rehearse to converse and immerse to disperse?”

“Huh?” replied Mogallus.

“What I mean is, let us call Lady Zek Way to preside over us that we may choose which of our number will contend against the Apicureans and Padipalians.”

“But I am a big boy, with exposure internazionale. Thou standest no chance against me.”

“Let us do it then. And the winner shall stand down.”

Thus did they call Lady Zek Way to oversee the casting of lots. And the lot fell on Duroximus to lead the charge of the independents. “Bollocks!” said Moghallus, “big boys can’t be bound by small contests.” And that was the end of that.

And across the land, the time came once again for the contenders to indicate their contention through the extravagant purchase of an expressio d’interest. The Apicureans knew that Gambrach was unable to purchase the Apicurean expressio, for the cost of it was an amount thoroughly repugnant to the righteousness of Gambrach.

Wherefore the debtor king of Kogitaria, Yaya Bellows, declared to the Kogitarians, “Ye must starve another 9 months, for I have decided to spend thine wages on the Gambrachian expressio d’interest. Tis my glorious duty as his son.” Thus was the expressio obtained for Gambrach, who hated corruption with every fibre of his being, that he might not partake in the corruption of the purchase.

Lo, in Gideria, King Ambsalom of the trained waist also acquired the expressio d’interest, that he might rule for a second quadrannium. And as he sought to submit it, the receptor asked him, “Where is the seal of Shiwajun?”

“What? I am king. A man of Kwee Lox. My seal sufficeth.”

“Not here, it don’t. Lemme show you something. See this expressio from Shango Lulu. It beareth the seal of Shiwajun, and of the 57 regional Giderian prefects.”

“What? I am king. A man of Kwee..”

“Yeah, okay bruh.”

Behold, the news came unto the people of Digital Perusia and Social Mediana and they were amazed. Wherefore the Lovengers began to speak against Ambsalom, repeating the Latin maxim “Babasopecus, oparithicus.”

Yea, was the cry carried all the way to Oshunlonica, where the reign of Ogbenyssius was about to come to an inglorious end. Babasopecus, oparithicus! Yea, did Shiwajun, filled with the spirit of Babasopecus declare to the Oshunlonicans from the castle of the Lord ToJah, “Listen, ye field nuccuhs! Ye wilt anoint my anointed house nuccuh as thy next King after Ogbenyssius. For I own thy gaddem asses. And all the money in Oshunlonica filleth but one of my side pockets.”

Ogbenyssius looked on, aghast in oponimous impotence. These were the same people that he was owing months and months of wages. Shiwajun looked at Ogbenyssius and at once knew what troubled him so. Fear not, Shiwajun mouthed to him.

That instant a carriage arrived from Boo Jar bearing 16 billion shekels.

“Behold thy wages!!!” cried Shiwajun. “Babasopecus….”

“…OPARITHICUS!!!!!” the people yelled in delirium.

The people saw it and heard it and there was not a gaddam chill in the entire gaddem kingdom.