The Chronicles of Chill: In the end, Oparithicus!

The End text

Thus it was that in the fourth year of what came to be known as the first quadrannium of Gambrach, that the Necomongers declared electoralis open, that the people of the 37 kingdoms mightest cast their ballots for the ruler of the Iron Throne of Boo Jar and the Nassholes of legislatum.

But that is not the point at which this twevelation begins. For on the eve of electoralis, the gates of the Shiwajunian Palace on Bob Dylan avenue swung wide to let in, past the teeming throng waiting for the beneficence of Shiwajun, two mega chariots – the sort of which cometh only from the Iron Bank of Boo Jar.

Yea was it broadcast to all on Social Mediana and there was no gaddem chill. For only weeks before, Shiwajun had been overheard assuring his acolytes that he was ready to push their ignition buttons with his vast and magnificently unexplainable wealth.

“Behold,” he said unto the them, “in Oshunlonica, they accused the Shiwajun of bragging like an old fart that he was richer than the entire kingdom of Oshunlonica! Imagine that, if you will, when all I said was, nuccuhs please, how much in cummulative superlatives is thine entire wealth that I would pilfer it? What is there to pillage in all of Oshunlonica, especially with a king as useless as Ogbenyssius who createth no transactions, fictitious or legitimate? Wherefore I say unto thee as thy Shiwajun, that I am at the wajun of activation. Go ye forth therefore unto the ends of the 37 kingdoms – and if ye deliver the kingdoms unto Gambrach, I will activate you so hard, Globercum would acquire thee.”

And when he said it, yea was there no gaddem chill in the land. But if the people felt unchilled at that outburst, they had no gaddem idea what was coming. For when he was asked about the coinage carriages , he retorted, “And so gaddem what? Are the chariots and carriages that enter my gates with thanksgiving and my courts with praise thy mother’s frocking business? Was it ye who hired my sentries for me? If I have mysterious coinage carriages come unto me most likely bearing electoralis-influencing coin or adding even more unto my vast, mysterious and unexplainable wealth, how is it thy gaddem mother’s frocking business? You are my beyotches and King Kong ain’t got shit on me! Oh and P.S., Sage AreWoeLawWar is the greatest.”

Behold, there was no gaddem chill in the land.

Thus did the people of the kingdoms venture out, as they did at the end of the reign of Gejoshaphat. In Twilistia, the outcry was against another quadrannium of Gambrach but the peoples of Kardashiana – the kingdoms of Dunamis, Seennar and Kar-Know – were known for their steadfastness for Gambrach and twas well expected that they wouldest again save the day.

What the people did not expect was the gambit which was to become known as the “Pressing of the Georgeynho”. The Pressing of the Georgeynho was a mystical configuration, known only to Manchurian Apricurians. It involved the unleashing of centurions, legionnaires and bandits to physically and metaphorically press the ballots. The Pressing of the Georgeynho kept some in their homes, dispersed others from the electoralis centres and – here’s the mystical part – sank some numbers and floated others.

Gambrach was so afeared of the Pressing of the Georgeynho reaching Lady Yeeshah that he cast a confirmatory look at her papyrus of electoralis before she cast it in the box.

Finally the Necomongers gathered all into the great hall of electoralis, that the ruler of the 37 Kingdoms for the coming quadrannium might be declared. Yea, were all assembled there from all across the kingdoms, and from Social Mediana and Twillistia. The Lovengers were there, as were the Padipalian nobles, like Dom Rewajius and Rain o’Mockery. And lo, was there a violently prodigious tagging of hashes, in anticipation of victory and defeat.

Yea, was the announcement the longest gaddem thing ever, because the Necomongers were not men of science, tallying with stones and marbles, instead of the great and glorious abacus of blocked chains.

The people heard first of Nassholes. Abushola, warden of senatii, would not return for he had been trumped in most Wahala Morghulisan fashion, and manic laughter was heard all the way from the Palace of Shiwajun. “You see?” said Shiwajun to Gambrach, “in the end, Wahala Morghulis.”

Jimobite of Oyossopotamia had also been trumped, as he sought to transmute from King to senateen. Don Parbio of Ibomitopia, who had defecated from Padipalia to Apicuria during the rash of the defecation of the Nassholes, would also not return to the chamber. But Dinobetes Mellitus, of the jekunimous iyanensis, had triumphed. And there was not a gaddem chill anywhere.

It was evident to all, before long, that Gambrach had trumped Arty Cool; that Caballee and Caballum had bested the Padipalians; that whatever had happened in the past quadrannium was a foretaste of the glorious age that was to come.

Wherefore, Gambrach was heard singing the ballad of his fellow man of Gunn, Ser Levi Embeats,

I am the (a), incred (a), incred (a)
Incredible General
Sensei ay shanall wah dem call me
Incred (a), incred (a), incredible Gene–
Select, selec-lect–

And Lady Kem Shun hollered back from Jandinia, “dat is a wicked, real, rudebwoi, bad man ting, ya nuh. King Gambrach fi me gimme me say two time!!!” Lo, in all the land was there no gaddem chill.

And then it all went dark and the vision was ended. And the Tword said unto the chronicler, “Once thou completeth the transcription of this chronicle, jettison the quill and the scroll, for thy work is done.”

“But why has thou shown me these mysteries, great Tword? What was the point?”

“The point, dear scribe, is as the bards Linkage Parkings wrote- ‘…in the end, it mattereth not’, or as Shiwajun would say, “In the end, Oparithicus.”

 

 

 

There shall be a bound volume of the chronicles. Tarry awhile.

 

Chronicles of Chill: The Yar Curbian Delayment and the Neduskian Detainment

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The Chronicles have been revealed unto man that he mayest learn from the passage of time, for time like an ever rolling circular stream bears all its sons to repeat themselves. Thus, as electoralis was deferred at the beginning and end of Gejoshaphat’s quadrannium, was it also deferred as Gambrach and Arty Cool contended for the Iron Throne of Boo Jar.

Yea, was there great unchill, even from the Lovengers, who surely would have proclaimed it the greatest deferment in the history of postponements under normal circumstances.

Wherefor Shomolek, Head of House Apicuria, remonstrated strongly with Ser Yar Curb, who had succeeded Jegatrix the Man of Chill, as head of the Necomongers, umpires of electoralis across the 37 kingdoms.

“What the gaddem heck dost thou believe thyself to be doing? Yea, even as Lateefus Kayodexicus demandeth, ‘what kind of job you doing’? Now I am forced to be away from the castle next week, when I had plans to be with my sweet baby girl. Let me ask ye, Ser Yar Curb, if it were thee, wouldst thou not prefer to be with my sweet baby girl than standing out in the sun? Lo, I am violently pissed off against thee!”

But Yar Curb invoked the spirit of Jegatrix and maintained his composure and answered Shomolek not. “People of the 37 Kingdoms, the Necomongers have suffered great sabotage and violent attacks, laying waste to our best laid plans. But fear ye not, I have conceived an ultramodern grand masterplan to right it all within seven days. Yea, like the ancient Greek prophet Craigus Davidus foresaw in his most famous tome ‘One Week’, I too shall go back to work on Monday, send out 40 ravens on Tuesday, sort out voting parchments by Wednesday and on Thursday and Friday, vote Saturday, chill on Sunday, Selah.”

Lo, the unchill was yet severe, for many had voyaged long distances to participate in electoralis, for the Necomongers were not possessed of sufficient sophistication to re-enlist the citizens whenever they relocated. Many had carefully arranged weddings and funerals to avoid the unchill of electoralis and now, even they were foiled. For the Kingdom was not possessed of sufficient sophistication for the citizens to vote in normalcy. And yea, it was in that day that the spirit of Exitus Canadius descended again most mightily amongst the people, tempting them with dreams of icicles and frosted breath.

Behold, as unchill swirled, was a cry heard from the Kingdom of Dunamis, where Lord El-Farquaad reigned. It was a cry from none other than Lord El-Farquaad himself. “Agony! Wailing! Gnashing of teeth! We stand in the cold blood of our three score and half dozen Fulannister brothers who have been murdered in Jurkan! Tis a tragedy!”

And yea, the unchill in the kingdom waxed stronger.

Lord El-Farquaad continued, “Now, I know that I have previously warned Tywinnically and Tyrionically that the life of a Fulannister is a loan and Fulannisters will always collect their debt. However, I beg of my Fulannister brethren this time to write it off as a non-performing loan. No need to collect, please dear.”

But Ser Din Kallus, a man of expertise in the law and Warden of the Kingdom’s Civicus Council had sent ravens to Jurkan to verify the Farquaadian claims and none of the Jurkanian meisters could verify the deaths. Wherefor he came unto the people, and the Social Medianites and the Twillistines to enquire, “Doth Lord El-Farquaad seek to foment and be starting something? Yea, have I spoken to the people of Jurkan and nary a person seeeth what the king claimeth.”

And yea did the unchill in the kingdom wax stronger.

Thus it was that the Twillistines beheld another unsettlement from Startuppitytomia, in the Technophilia region of Social Mediana. Technophilia was a gated community, where a group of people known as the Flounders had assembled to save the 37 kingdoms by means of the ancient art of technosis. The Flounders acquired wealth by wrestling angels from the realms of glory, as the biblical Jacob did, to bequeath them investment wealth seeds.

One such flounder named Neduski Marikov, who had joined Technophilia from faraway Wasrav, had cried out to the Social Medianites of his expulsion from Startuppitytomia by his heavenly investor.

“Behold, I departed from my princely estates in Wasrav to fix the image of thy kingdoms and I wrestled with my angel and he blessed me. And lo, I built things beyond anyone’s imagination using my special mastery of technosis. But because of my flowing hair, fair skin and alien accent, my angel and his posse flagged me on the Galactopol wanted register and I was locked up (they didn’t let me out) locked up (they didn’t let me out) locked up, wooooooooooooh! But now I’m out, I shall write it all in a tome and use the money to build an outreach centre known as the Neduski Marikov Centre for Kids Who Don’t Technosis Too Good.”

And there was no chill in Startuppitytomia as other Flounders and their builders rebutted the Marikovian account. Stannis Boyejius of Mandela and Utterbrave was the first to respond, saying “Tis a shame thou wert locked up (they didn’t let you out). Tis also a shame how thou frolicked away thine angel’s wealth, my guy!”

Yea, did Woyicus of the Righting Racks also refute with great gusto. “Dude, thou didst thy technosis with dualisation which ye didst not reveal to the angels and the heavenly host. Thy Galactopol penitentiarisation be on thy head!!!”

And all across the land, in Boo Jar, in Social Mediana, in Twillistia, in all the 37 kingdoms and yea, even in Startuppitytomia, there was no gaddem chill!!!

 

Chronicles of Chill: King Ambsalom’s Personal Crisis

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There was no gaddem chill in all of the land. Across the kingdoms, the senateens, junior senateens and kings jostled and positioned in readiness for electoralis.

At the Magistracy, an emergency meeting of the High Primussy Council was called to ponder the matter of Nono Gengen’s ouster by Gambrach, the sort of thing unseen since the days of the Men of Gunn.

“Branko, why givest thou thyself to Gambrach to appoint in breach of our customs. Knowest thou not, that thou disseth Nono Gengen and bring opprobrium unto the Primussy?”

“Brothers in Magistrasis,” said Branko, “hate ye the player when tis the game ye ought to hate?”

“Oh really?” replied the High Primussy Council. “Verily, verily, we say unto thee, we are in receipt of a petition against thee from the quill of Kogba Lisa, of the iuris and we hereby give thee seven days to respond. Now depart from us!”

Nono Gengen heaved a sigh of relief. “Brothers, I knew ye wouldest save me from…”

“Slow your roll, ol’boy!” they cautioned. “Behold, thou art also given seven days to respond to the petition raised against thee! Now ye also begone!”

Lo, even as the High Primussy Council moved to restore the sanctity of the Magistracy, ravens were sent from the emissaries of Trumpstantinople, Jandinia and The Yuros to Gambrach saying, “Dude, thou thinkest thyself to be slick, messing with the Magistracy on the eve of Electoralis. Behold, as the ancient saying of the 37 kingdoms goes, ‘dat kain ting get as e be, bruh!’ Desist from this unchill, with true integrity, lest we be forced to demonstrate true integrity to thee.”

Caballee and Caballum were incensed and said to Gar Bar, “Go unto the emissaries and tell them that they need to respeck our authoritahhh!”

Yea did Gar Bar go unto Social Mediana, declaring unto the foreign emissaries, “We fear ye not. I declare unto thee, as did Chemical Allee of Messopotamia, that we have armies and we have the nuclear weapon of King Gambrach’s powerful charm. Ye willst not know what hitteth thee, whah lar hee!”

Wherefore the Trumpetistanis and the Yourozees said unto the Jandinians, “Activate the Gambrachian hocus pocus remote controlcus that ye implanted in him during his convalescence in thy territory.” Yea, was it activated by the Janidinians and thus did Gambrach begin to meskafumble, even worse than when the affliction of WhyWereWhereWeWhahWhereWeWe came upon Osinoshin.

Behold, Gambrach recogniseth not his Apircurean brothers, nor recalled the offices for which they vied and on occasion announced them as vying for the Iron Throne of Boo Jar. It was a malarkey of confoundium and wrought severe unchill upon the land. But Caballee and Caballum ensured that he pressed on.

And in the Kingdom of Gideria, King-in-waiting Shangolulu unlocked the Ubiquity stone. Giderians saw him on banners in the township, on scrolls in the citadels, lying in wait for them in the latrines, knocking on their eyelids in their sleep, delivering their young at the midwifery, milking their cows on the farms, yea one Giderian swore Shangolulu nearly accompanied him into the other room!

Lo, they saw him, heard him, tasted him, smelt him, felt him all over their skin and even felt him squeezing their medulla oblongatas. Not a sensory organ existed that Shangolulu did not invade virally.

Wherefore the Giderian assembly asked themselves “Of what use is Ambsalom to us in the glorious age of Shangolulu? Canst we not draw early curtains on the quadrannium of Ambasolum and hasten the glorious age of Shangolulu?”

But their Warden cautioned them, “Tis not a journey on which we can embark unless Shiwajun prohibiteth it not. Seek ye first the face of Shiwajun and the rest may be added.”

Lo, did a delegation go unto Shiwajun in his castle.

“Hail, Shiwajun! Fearless leader, first of his name, scion of Iragbijishire, annointer of Shangolulu. We pray for thy blessing to expunge Ambsalom the Forgotten.”

Shiwajun said nought but winked and shook his head.

“Thou sayest we can expunge him?”

Shiwajun winked again, shaking his head and saying, “I say not that I am not saying that thou canst not not expunge Ambsalom the Forgotten, shey’get?”

The assembly men were confused. “Wise Shiwajun, shall we expunge him then?”

Shiwajun winked again and shook his head. “I have said all that needs to be said.”

Yea, did the assembly men rise against Ambsalom, moving to topple him from the throne. The people saw it and there was no gaddem chill.

Then did Shiwajun rise most mightily to proclaim not just to their hearing but all across the land, “Touch not my formerly anointed and do my Forgotten no harm! Ambsalom shall not be expunged.”

The people heard it and there was no gaddem chill.

And then, in the kingdom of the Crescent Lakes, King Ben Yade announced a brand new coinage for the kingdom. “Crescent Lakeians, behold thy new coinage! Tis a coinage even more glorious than my last hallucination. Yea, have I called it ‘The Glorious Coinage of Occultic Manifestations of Voodoo Denseness!!!”

Lo, in all the gaddem land, yea in every gaddem nook and cranny, was nary a gaddem chill left to be seen!