I’m going to try another 15 minute unprepared for sprint. Lets we what I can come up with. My friend suggested that I write about King Carl, which is actually an joke between a group of us, and doesn’t probably make as much amusing sense to anyone else.
Thus, a 15 minute story about King Carl. Be warned, its complete nonsense and that is because I wanted it to be.
The King was restless. The kingdom was peaceful. Its inhabitants well off, and there were few if any argument he needed to solve. To be Frank (and who was Frank?), Carl was bored.
He begin to come up with plans. Plans involving installing large public chocolate fountains, or scandalous public murals. The longer he sat on his throne, which he reminded himself to complain about. Robert had warned him the seat was uncomfortable, but seriously it wasn’t very useful to cut yourself so often. Especially since he needed sanitize after dealing with the claimants against the Bog of Eternal Stench. He regretted offering to handle Jareth’s duties while the older man was off trying to win his wife back.
Seriously, why marry a woman who would curse her brother way? But that was none of Carl’s business, so he moved on to other plans while sipping some tea.
Just as Carl was starting to think of making his guards play human chess pieces,a crowd of extra small people came through, carrying a human male tied up with laffy taffy.
Carl did not like this waste of good candy.
Neither the less, he sat up in a royal poise, once again cursing Robert for not allowing him to return the bloody chair, and turned to greet his citizenry.
“Who comes before the King” Came an deep voice from a mirror placed behind Carl. He smiled as he realized the new settings had come in, and it now sounded like that Snape fellow who had been courting Lady Rose. The man had an odd obsession with red heads.
“The Vending Elves Guild requires the Sire’s attention.”
“MFHOGHSDFH” said the gagged man. Carl raised an eyebrow. He seemed familar.
“What is the problem, lads,” Carl said, hopping off the chair, which now permentanly called the Bloody Pain. He grabbed his trusty crossbow and walked down the stairs to stand closer to the Elves. Mostly because he didn’t want to admit he could barely see them.
“We have found an intruder on our lands who refuses to retreat, and keeps trying to expose us to the..” and the Elf, who stood no more then a half foot tall sounded utterly disgusted at this next bit. “Calamity.”
“Those beings this being comes from.”
“Well, that was explicit. Please be more vague.”
“I believe they are called Humans.”
“Oh, that lot. Annoying, aren’t they. Remind me to tell you sometime of the time I went there and they started eating brains. It was quite a hassle.” The Elves gasped. “Oh, don’t worry, it was just a test group for a medical treatment. The majority don’t eat brains.” He walked over to the human. “What’s your name?”
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t replicate that. So you are Earl. Hi Earl.” The man looked confused. “Well, Earl, I’m going to have to tell you that you can’t go telling everyone about the Elves. They start getting annoyed, and then my cookies start tasting weird.”