Chronicles of Chill: Debaticus, the ZekWaylian Race & Electoralian Chess

chess pieces on wooden chess board

The time drew nigh when the contenders for the Iron Throne of Boo Jar were scheduled to engage in debaticus. Many people feared, given King Gambrach’s less than favourable outing with Lady Destiny, that Caballee and Caballum would restrain his participation.

The fear seemed well-founded when Sagacious, Gambrach’s counsellor for Kwarapshan and a man formerly well-versed in the laws of the land, came unto the people to declare, “I see no merit in the King engaging in Debaticus with Lady Zekway, Ser Duroximus or Ser Moghallus. They are mere traveling minstrels of highfalutin motivationism. Tis true that Gambrach at his best couldst hardly motivate his own bowels. But still, this is kingship, not clergy.”

And a rumbling of unchill cascaded across the land.

But Lady Zekway, Moghallus and Duroximus, who the people had named Pax Collapsia, following their failed attempt at selecting a sole champion for the non-Apicurian/Padipalian contenders, were undeterred. For, as Duroximus liked to say, “The time has come to free the glum from oppression under the thumb of a king so numb to the humdrum of living in a slum!”

But the rumours persisted that Gambrach would decline to engage in debaticus and would send Osinoshin in his stead.

Arty Cool mounted his winged chariot and departed from Trumpstantinople with extreme rapidity, for he was also to engage with Gambrach and Pax Collapsia in debaticus. He arrived just in time at the Boniface Arena, where he saw the trio, but Gambrachwas nowhere to be found.

The Warden of the Boniface Arena summoned the contenders and told them that Gambrach had done them all amakalically and they would have to proceed without him. Lo, did Abushola, who went every where with Arty Cool, protest most mightily that, with respect to Pax Collapsia, cats and lions were both felines but that didn’t mean they were on the same rung in the food chain.

“Tis true,” agreed Arty Cool. “This is not the cup of FA or of Carabao. Behold, tis El Classico!” With that, he departed the arena. Behold, unchill percolated broadly all over the land.

At conductivitis, where Nono Gengen the Primus Magistratus was to be tried, a lawyerly host descended to wage war against Ghanyamustgo and his principals. The head of conductivitis never hesperredit as one barrage of ratio decidendi and stare decisis followed another.

Caballee and Caballum saw that their plans were in danger of being thwarted and summoned Gambrach to demand that Nono Gengen leave the office of Primus voluntarily,

“Nono Gengen, my Primus Magistratus?” asked Gambrach. “Thou wishest him to leave?”

“Yes! This was why we arranged for Ghanyamustgo to raise the petition against him and expedited his trial.”

“Ghanyamustgo, my squire? He’s involved? Nobody told me. And a trial? Who’s trying Nono Gengen? Since when? What is going on here?”

“Look, King“, sneered Caballum, “just do as we tell you as usual.”

“But if Nono Gengen leaves, we will have no Primus Magistratus. Osinoshin says we must always have a Primus. Filteration of Powers, or something, he calls it.”

The Deux Caballes grew weary and Bashally, one of the Gambrach’s spinning quills, seeing what was required, issued the demand in the name of the Iron Throne. “The Iron Throne demands that you relinquish the Primus Magistracy forthwith!”

Behold, the people heard it and the unchill began to slowly boil over.

And in that moment, news came unto the people that Lady Zekway had withdrawn from contention for the throne. “I run no more,” she declared to all in Social Mediana and Digital Perusia, “for tis my desire to raise a new Pax to contend against the ApicuroPalian Hegemony.”

Duroximus heard of it and declared, “I too wouldst resign if it became the design of the Pax Collapsian line that we build the spine of a new kingly vine and cause the ApicuroPalians to whine.”

But the Electoralian Umpires of the house of Jegatrix rejected the purported withdrawal of Lady Zekway, saying “The date for WITHDRAWAL has long since COME and GONE and tis no longer for any CONTENDER to undeclare. Thou REMAINETH in the RACE, Lady Zekway and we shall not countenance a ZEKWEXIT!”

Yea did the unchill grow worse, especially as the Apricornian House for which Lady Zekway contendeth, discarded her and Stannis Boyejius of Teckiana, one of her advisors, of a duplicity for which neither was known.

Lo, was there worse to come, for King Shegolas and Dan Jumanji, both men of Gunn themselves, sent a warning unto the people, as if received from the Tword its very self, that Gambrach did not intend for Electoralis to be fair or for their will to be upheld.

“The older men of Gunn turn against Gambrach,” said Caballee to Caballum, “and simply are not possessed of sufficient time for conductivitis, or indeed any of the laws of the land, to run its due course.”

“Osinoshin, is there an undue course that we can embark upon to hasten Nono Gengen’s departure, that we may foist a friendlier face upon the Primussy? Thou wert a meister of legalities, like Sagacious, wert thou not?” asked Caballum

“Well,” said Oshinoshin, “if I were neither a holy man nor a man interested in the sanctity of our laws, and I must stress that I am most legally divine, what I might do, though it would be to the chagrin of the entire civilised part of the world, I would simply replace Nono Gengen by fiat. This is against my nature however, and praise be that I wholly holy legit.”

Caballe winked at Bashally, who smiled and departed the chamber post-haste. “King Gambrach, thou hast some fiatting to do,” said Caballee. “I shall do as ye bid me”, submitted Gambrach.

Behold, news came unto Twillistia and the four corners of the kingdom that Gambrach had by unknown royal prerogative ousted Nono Gengen from the Primussy and appointed another in his place.

And there was not a gaddem speck of chill left.

 

The Chronicles of Chill: The Gambrachian Date with Destiny

There remained absolutely no chill in the land. How could there be, with electoralis ever closer at hand? The quills in bedrock grew edgier as they saw in the people an outpouring of emotion like they hadn’t seen since the last quadrannium. Only this time, it was not for Gambrach.

“If Gambrach triumpheth not at electoralis, we shall be forced to return to plebeian society,” they lamented. “How ignominous!”

“Canst Caballee and Caballum, the Deux Cabales, not save us from this imminent doom?”

So they trooped in to Caballum’s chambers and demanded his intervention, as chief string puller in the kingdom.

“Why fear ye?” Caballum asked, “if we lose at electoralis, we will remediate the anomaly at the magistratum.”

“Ah,” responded the quills, “but Nono Gengen is Primus Magistratus and twas not Gambrach that made him so. Dost thou not remember, Ser Caballum?”

Caballum did remember and agreed that the Primus Magistratus would need to be a friendly one. “Then we must remove Nono Gengen before electoralis. Get me Ghanyamust Go. Tell him to come and see me at once!”

Thus it was, that after the meeting of Caballum and Ghanyamust Go, a one-time squire to Gambrach, that a petition was sent to Conductivitis. Lo and behold, the very next day, Conductivitis brought a charge against Nono Gengen with such alacrity as had never been seen in the land. Not even when Macashma Gandy rose speedily to receive his booty.

Yea, was there no chill in the land and lo, did the unchill grow in severity.

“This is unprecedented!” the people cried. “Primus Magistratus? On the eve of electoralis? We see you, bruhhhh!”

But the Lovengers were greatly afflicted with Objectivitis. “Let’s consider this obvious miscarriage of justice objectively though,” they counselled. “If Nono Gengen hath no case to answer, why does it matter that Conductivitis did not bother with a thorough investigation? No one is above the law. Not even the Primus Magistratus.”

“Not even Balavida, of the Kwarapta Intrusivo grass, who has yet to be charged?” the others retorted.

“Look, we are being objective here,” responded the Lovengers. “And objectively, speaking the justice can be selectively applied, so long as tis our hero Gambrach and his stooges that do the selection of the justiced!”

And the unchill did not abate, only growing in swirling intensity.

We need to distract them, decided Caballee. We shall send Gambrach out stumping again, though his battery be not yet fully recharged. 

Thus it was that Gambrach went stumping in Deltonia, where he lost his footing figuratively and unfiguratively. For he slipped as he descended the stairs, momentarily breaking the malady of Syncope upon Dinobetes Mellitus, who saw it from afar in his sick-bed and laughed in derision. But he knew he could not yet afford to convalesce and prayed that Syncope render him infirm again. Syncope obliged.

Yea, the second slippage of Gambrach occurred as he addressed the Deltonian crowd that had gathered to hear him speak. Shomolek handed Gambrach the Apicurean banner to wave in anticipatory triumph. But it was heavy and Gambrach could not brandish it. Wherefore he declared to the people, “Behold, I now hastily hand over the banner to Substantial OG, our Apicurean contender for Kingship of the 37 Kingdoms! Yeahhhh!!!”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Shomolek reminded Gambrach that he was the contender for the Iron throne.

“Okay, I do it again,” said Gambrach, as his hand quivered under the weight of the banner. “Behold, I now very hastily hand over the banner to Substantial OG, our Apicurean contender for a seat at senatii! Yeahhhh!!!”

Shomolek quickly reminded Gambrach that Substantial was contending for the throne of the kingdom of Deltonia.

“JUST TAKE THE GADDEM BANNER BEFORE MY ARMS GIVE WAY!!!!” screamed Gambrach, unable to hold the banner any longer.

And there was yet unchill upon the land, as the people saw Gambrach in his full stature.

Caballee and Caballum asked the quills, “Hath Arty Cool not made any gaffes? Canst we not get the people to focus on him instead?”

“Well,” Lar Yi said, “tis well known that he is a fugitive in Trumpstantinople and his winged chariot is prohibited from Trumpstantine soil, as it was said of Shiwajun as well in the past. Shall we remind the people of the ancient saying that ‘A King cannot be King if he cannot place his feet on the golden soil.”

Lo, did they mock Arty Cool again, as they had for many years of his purported banishment. But news quickly came from Trumpstantinople that Arty Cool was visiting, accompanied by Abushola and Sita-Doka. Yea, was it said, that he lodged at the travellers’ lodge of King Trump himself!

And yea, was there no chill as the Coolates rejoiced and the Lovengers scoffed. Caballee and Caballum sought yet a further distraction. They agreed to send him, in the company of his Hand, Osinoshin, to the village square meeting with Lady Destiny a’Med.

All were gathered across Social Mediana, including Twilistia and the Book of Many Faces, unto Digital Perusia to witness Gambrach, unscripted. Yea, was he asked many questions.

“Your Majesty, thou sayest the Haramites of Boko have been vanquished and yet the forts of thine armies suffer great pillage at their hands. Are they truly vanquished?” Gambrach did not hear the question properly, so Lady Destiny repeated herself.

“They are vanquished. And warriors that mutter will be put to the sword.”

“What His Majesty means to say is…” interjected Osinoshin, as he launched into a fuller answer.

“Your Majesty, thou sayest thou art a man of upstandiness, untolerating of graft. Yet thou continuest to fraternise with Macashma Gandy, the great Sold. Why?”

As Gambrach pondered his answer, Osinoshin tried to jump in on his behalf again, “You see…”

“LET THE MAN SPEAK FOR HIMSELF!” demanded Lady Destiny. “Tis known the Many Years Disease affected his ears, has it spread to his tongue as well?”

“I believe the Macasham visions may have been a national bewitchment”, answered Gambrach finally, “for what manner of King is so stupid that he receiveth such gratification in person?”

The Lovengers applauded. The Killmongers on the other hand asked, “Is this your King?” And the unchill continued to swirl.

Finally, Lady Destiny asked him, “Your Majesty, if thou art not victorious at electoralis, wilt thou graciously accept defeat or will His Majesty again invoke SODAB, the “Siprit” of the Dog and Baboon?”

Gambrach smiled.”Loss? I look like someone who’s genuinely capable of loss to you? Are your eyes working? As my beloved Lady Kem-Shun would’ve said before she was hounded away, ‘nah, fam. I is not losing a bladclat ting! Those who gon’ lose know where the courts be!’ Peace!” Yea, did he throw the Game of Thrones season 8 sign again.

And all across the land, there was no gaddem chill.

 

 

Chronicles of Chill: The Tapestries of Rotamachus

Lights, Shadows, Color, Sky, Bloom

As electoralis drew nigh, the spirit of unchill descended most mightily upon the land, sweeping with violence and blowing however it gaddem felt.

Lo, did it blow unto the castle of Dinobetes Mellitus, where the hosts of the constabulary encamped around his dwelling in besiegement. And none could enter or depart Castle Mellitus for it was cut off from the rest of civilisation.

Dinobetes climbed up into the ramparts and saw the legions of the constabulary in waylayment. And he cried out unto them, “Why campest ye around my castle. Know ye not of my extreme closeness to Abushola the Warden of Senatii?”

“Aye!” responded the Chief Besieger, “but verily I say unto thee that the magistratum has ordered your arrest.”

“I command thee to leave the vicinity of my castle forthwith!!! Ye shouldst know that I am not one to be messed with!”

“We shall go nowhere! And if thou likest it not, call the Constabulary. Ooops! We are already here! Muahahahahaha!!!”

Dinobetes tried to send a pigeon to Abushola but it was promptly shot out of the sky. He sighed, knowing the game was up.

“Lower the drawbridge,” he commanded his manservant. Then he said a quick prayer to Syncope, the god of elite sanctimony. “O Syncope, I am about to be delivered unto the Constabulary and I need your help. Descend upon me and afflict me with thy most holy malady.”

Behold, as Dinobetes yielded himself, Syncope answered his prayer and struck him most violently with incontinence and unconsciousness. All of Twilistia beheld it and there was no chill.

In Bedrock, the spinning quills of Gambrach were concerned that he was not stumping. “Sire, Sai You, Sai Me, Sai it together naturally. Tis known to all men that thou wouldst vanquish Arty Cool without even trying but for the sake of appearances…”

“Oh, must I?” he asked Osinoshin. “Tis indubitably so”, replied Osinoshin.

Thus it was that Gambrach ventured to the land of Bom Akwaaba – the land of King Dom Inik – to stump. “Bom Ak are you with me?” Gambrach asked the Akwaabians. “Oh yeah, we’re voting Gambs, we ain’t goin’ nowhere!” came the refrain. “I promise the stump, the whole stump, nothing but the stump!” Gambrach replied.

Yea, it was a triumphant outing. But Gambrach returned to Bedrock in Boo Jar extremely fatigued. The Quills eagerly planned another stumpage but news suddenly came to the people that Lady Zar Kar of the Electoralis Umpirage was a kinswoman of Gambrach.

Wherefore Gar Bar went unto the people, with Lay Si in his shadow, to declare “Lady Zar Kar is a most genteel lady of the highest integrity and competence, who is only coincidentally, marginally and non-consanguinally related by a marriage of their relatives. Heed not the word of the Padipalians.”

But Gambrach had had enough and summoned Shiwajun. “Ser Shiwajun, wilt thou stump on my behalf with Osinoshin as thou didst in the electoralis of Gejoshaphat. I canst withstand this shit no more.”

“It would be my pleyyor, Your Majesty” answered Shiwajun.

“Great! Give them Wahala Morghulis in this Season 8,” said Gambrach, holding up 4 fingers on each hand.

And the people heard that Gambrach had ceded stumping to Shiwajun and there was no chill, but the Lovengers threw the GoT Season 8 sign wherever they found themselves. Yea, even Lady Yeeshah, who had complained of Caballee and Caballum.

Lo, it was at that time that Rain o’Mockery, the Irishman of uncertain function in the council of Gejoshaphat shewed the people a tapestry of Rotamachus, depicting Gambrach leading the country into tears and war and famine and gnashing of teeth.

Behold, all saw it and there was no chill. Lay Si, the Quill of Gambrach in Social Mediana, was particularly incensed. “This is a Wendellian lie! A Simlinous deception! This is not a tapestry from this electoralis but from the last.”

o’Mockery laughed in glee. “Thou sayest twas Rotamachus whilst he stabbed Gejosphat in the back, but behold the tapestry in much greater length!!!”

And thus it was that another tapestry of Rotamachus was unveiled, depicting Rotamachus himself predicting certain doom for the Kingdom and the unfeelingness of Gambrach.

Lay Si took up a magnifying glass to examine the stitches. “Aha!” he cried, “the stitches of this tapestry have been spliced and it rejoined in different places. It is a tapestry of falsehood!”

“Oh? No longer tapestry from the time of Gejoshaphat?” the Social Medianites asked, but there was no answer.

Rain o’Mockery, the Irish, Wendellian, Simlinous, antagonist revealed to the Twilistians, the Social Medianites and the Digital Perusites that he had even more tapestry, which could very well rip the curtain of the inner chamber of the Apicurean House.

And there was no speck, no atom, no figment, no gaddem modicum of chill in the land!!!