Bye Bye Bye

"Hugger-mugger!" I cried, deactivating the inhaled chalice seconds before the cheerful submissiveness returned and I was forced to design an elephant-sized castle. (Even though the elephant was thought to not fancy being a monarch, he could've still harboured a secret desire to be a ruler. I mean, I'd rather be stationery than a butterfly myself any day.) We could always recover the chalice sometime in winter when Pachyderm # 72 got a cold and sneezed out an especially large and solid goobie.
I pulled on a onesie.
"Drat!" I cried. "What are the ramifications of these events? All this fraternizing! My feet are cold!" (I pulled on some booties, too.)
Trevor approached.
"Um, dearest son, I don't really know what you're on about, but maybe we should talk about who is going to now rule the magical kingdom? See, I'm getting a bit long in the tooth (literally, I mean my front teeth are now three inches long and eating fruit is a mission!) and I think it is time to pass the pencil of power on, to, well... you."

I freeze.
I thaw.
I melt.
I respond.
"Mum! But I'm not ready for such a task!"
"Of course you are, stupid," Melvin chips in, "That's what this whole novel has been about! You've become the leader and king and magician you need to be to rule a fantasy kingdom such as this. You were in no shape to do so at the start of the story, but now look at you! You've discovered a latent magical ability, led a rebel army in the recapturing of a mighty stronghold, set up Princess Lea with Harrison Ford, and defeated your mortal enemy, Chester! You are the man for the job of running this kingdom!"

I'm struck speechless by Melvin's impeccable logic. I subtly snap my fingers behind my back to stop him sending any more of it my way, at least in a language I can understand. He'll probably tell me next that halfway through this chapter I've changed from past to present tense and that simply isn't good enough.

"Well," I finally respond (3 hours later, that is, and it's 11pm and the only people still standing in the courtyard are Trevor, Melvin, a Roger elf who wanted to stay up late, Clay Aiken (don't ask me why he's there) and me) "I guess I'll be king then."
"Hooray!" My assembled supporters resond (Melvin in the ancient Gaelic equivalent) "Long Live King Peter!"
For a second I am reminded of a certain series of books by C.S Lewis but I can't quite put my name on them... and then I come back to earth. Books other than Mills and Boone? Sacrilege!
I smile.
"Long live me indeed."

THE END

penultimate chapter ** Contents Page