“Snaggy, move the target further, come on,” screamed Queen Elizabethy the 13th.
“Yes, your majesty,” said Snaggy.
The highest ranking jester ran into the range tripping and hopping over himself, and bales of hay. He narrowly avoided the hiss of the speeding crossbow bolt flying danger close.
“Thwack!”
The scarecrow featuring a picture of the king had been bolted many times at this point. She smiled at her fair features in her portable mirror after hitting another bullseye. She needed more eye shadow.
“You idiot could you be any clumsier. Should I be smelling your breath for a drink and pulling you apart when I confirm my suspicions?” she screamed at Snaggy.
She handed her weapon to a waiter in an exchange for hot tea.
"Ah," she relaxed, sipping from a green crystal cup full of charms. It soothed her vocal cords that had been getting a mean workout lately.
“Uh no schlock for me I have drank since you ordered," he stopped himself turning bright red from embarrassment," No you only observe a very sober clown test me if necessary,” Snaggy stammered.
“Very brazen of you to admit, I can only handle ruling so many fools until I break,” she snarled, eyeing the crossbow sitting on the dinner tray.
The waiting waiter flinched as she retrieved her weapon and set the empty cup gently in its place. Snaggy doubled his pace as he heard the Queen loudly click her next bolt into place. He was dragging more hay balls further down range one at a time. Now he grabbed some of the rope that bundled them, and managed to get 3 at once.
“Bootlickers, where have you gone?” the Queen called.
The bootlickers ran out from the stable where they had been enjoying an afternoon snack and bowed in her presence.
“You two there run there be good little fish and fetch me the master general for brunch, as well as military planning,” she commanded.
"Anything for you milady," called the toadies running away on their mission.
Snaggy adjusted the last bale into place featuring a fresh full sized portrait. He had had a stack of a thousand sitting in the dugout. A group of noble women gathered to watch in the royal private garden next door. The breeze blew in the soft scent of fresh linen from the baskets left to mildew among the morning green.
The nearby royal hen house erupted in squabbling, while a pig squealed. The crowd's cheers reverberated far away followed by the crackling disturbance of a loudspeaker broadcasting the daily noon execution. All things were functioning as they ought to in the kingdom today.
“Thwack!”
Snaggy jumped in the air as the projectile flew narrowly past his torso. It had shot out the king's codpiece while he fell into a mud puddle. He spit out a mixture of dirt and water as his boss laughed at the highlight of her morning.
Later the master general sat beside the royal bog with the Queen. She poured more hot tea into the fancy cup for her 7th cup. The table was stacked with a food tray made of crystals, and twelve floors tall featuring a different appetizer on each level. The servants saved the best for last from the kitchen. A tray with charred and seasoned honey roaches that took up the remaining real-estate on the emerald covered tabletop.
“Your highness Terp communication with the army has still not been established,” announced the Knight, holding the blue salute by her side.
“You're behind schedule yet again, war master,” said Queen Elizabtethy.
She ripped the head off a stink bug with her teeth and sucked out the succulent juices from the red shell.
“I know, we need more communication crystals, but they are hard to get set up in the field, I'm sure everything is still going according to plan,” said the Slyman who wore a military outfit with more medals than fabric, and was round as an egg.
“Slurp. Aw that's much too hot," she said, setting down her steaming tea.
The war master gulped, and focused on buttering a crumpet. The guards in the background led the royal ponies to the pond for a drink. A servant began to shake fish food into the water for his kin. A Bootlicker emerged to the surface from underneath the stagnant murky waters gobbling it up. And the frogs dove for cover underwater bubbling like soda.
“Humpy, what did I tell you before?” she said sternly inspecting the Slyman with rounded edges, and small cracks running along rigid blue veins in his outer shell.
“This mission is the last straw before I will be dropped off the tallest castle wall, and one of your spawn takes over like all the other senior positions,” he said between mouthfuls of moth casserole that dripped onto his blue country overalls.
“Not worried about the future consequences of your actions?” she said, popping a cut cucumber chunk into her mouth that had been stabbed with an olive.
“Your highness with all due respect, why worry about our troops when they are the best of the best, better than all the rest,” hollered Humpy Dumpy with confidence pounding the table with his fist.
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“I think I will replace you with a blue ribbon hog from the fair if you fail,” she chided.
“Fair enough” he sighed.
A meek servant entered and began applying a brown mud face mask to detoxify the ruler. The pair had sat under a grand elder tree with red needles that blew in the late summer's breeze coating the leftovers beginning to be boxed into doggy bags for the royal hounds. The queen played with her long fingernails, sharpening them with a file as she waited for the tea to cool, and mask to harden. The war master began to nervously tap his foot.
“Servant, get me some schlock at once! This tea isn't cutting it,” Humpy cried.
“What do the fools all say about doing stuff Humpy?” asked Elizabtethy, with a scowl.
“Who says what, is it one of the royal lyrics about getting turned up?” He stammered looking confused.
“All the jesters, even the younger ones still studying their books, and not yet fully indoctrinated into their foolish ideology at the colleges... They all say to do a job yourself if you ever want it done. And I add my own little touch. I say keep things on a strict schedule and harshly punish those who miss deadlines for optimum empire performance. This includes complete sobriety, and worship of crystals instead,” she said.
Humpy looked as far away with one eye, and a patch on the other. More commotion as three soldiers with gold trumpets ran up beside the table and started to blow in his ears. Another man took out a scroll and unrolled it until it hit the dirt.
“Your excellency we come with news of your son and his desire for marrying his next bride to be paid for by his parents at once,” said the royal speaker.
He held the green salute afterwards for a satisfactory enough time, eventually running off.
“Hm-mm already again so soon after the last. one. Tsk tsk love is truly a precocious thing and ever fleeting,” she said, clapping away without any enthusiasm.
The servant began to chisel the face mask because of the sprinkles of acid rain that had begun to drop slowly from the atmosphere. At first only a single droplet hit a plate and melted a hole in the dinner table. Snaggy popped the royal umbrella, and extended it over the Queen's head. The servants began to clear what remained of the table as the clipping clop signaled the arrival of her luxury wagon.
It only took five minutes for four of her favorite animals to drag in the royal carriage. It had a reinforced chamber, and the horses had similar armor. Snaggy and the Elizabethy the 13th boarded, and others shut the doors. The Knights around dropped their helmet masks closed, and scanned for any danger through crystal goggles.
“Prince Edward Longbottom is arriving safely from the lost castle of Upot and he wants your blessings to wed his newest wife,” called the newest arriving speaker from outside.
“Ah old news already I'm afraid, but good for him. Humpy ready my battle train for war, and instruct the blacksmiths to build twice as much railroad, and the workers to be laid with the tracks from overworking to dwarf mountain. All worth it for carrying crystals enough to tame, and conquer the rest of the planet in our image,” she instructed, as she rolled up the tinted window.
“Yes queen,” said Humpy.
He was saddled on top of his pony covered in protective cloth as they rode off.
"set off for the train station at once," she commanded.
"Yes your majesty," said the driver.
The streets of downtown Capital City blew dust, and tumbleweeds. The vendors packed the sidewalks. The royals rode by in a convoy of five as the crowds gathered around to watch the spectacle unfold. It was around the bend Royal Bank sat under magnificent carved columns, inviting red carpet, and statues standing tall outside. The building dwarfed the guards who stood still as the gargoyles perched overhead.
The Queen’s carriage stopped in front of the bank, and the polished stones. The guard descended to draw off the crowd already begging for scraps, and autographs. Snaggy opened the door and got out before he started jumping about on one leg.
“There's dog shit on my royal slipper, it's ruined,” he cried.
The queen laughed. She let herself out the other door and walked up the steps alone continuing to cackle. Inside the bank leprechauns in green suits worked hard. Three did spreadsheets out front while another carried a wagon full of Farc crystals inside the vault.
“Hello, what can I help you with today, Queen Elizabethy the 13th?” said one bowing from behind thick glasses, a clear divider looking of similar material.
“Yes, I'm here to check our joint account again and see if my husband has been up to no good,” she said.
“You truly have an instinct for ruling us all, your majesty. He was just in here this morning taking out a big load of everything” said the leprechaun, assaulting a typewriter at the front desk.
The Queen's face was bright red cutting through the remaining masking applied, and a murderous look was in her eyes.
“Well Marshmallow, how many did he take?” she asked.
“All the crystal he and his right-hand lizard could carry madam, and if you ask me it looked like they had climbing and spelunking gear on,”.
The queen stormed back out the entrance. She knew exactly what was going on. The King had gone to visit his old reptile exhibit. His favorite reptile on payroll was the dragon he was taking more, and more crystals to please her. The train could wait while the ruler started hatching her plan. It was time to kill the dragon, and lock her husband up in a tower with no key. In Fact the party had already finished the journey to the mountain top resembling a crown. A lair of booty overlooking Capital City where the sounds of fire and ice could be heard loudly going on inside the cave. The queen listed outside where her ships had landed. She had a face full of betrayal and disgust.
The next morning king Mardin the 4th and his dragon left their cavern for a morning stroll. The smell of pancakes, bacon, and booty wafted out with their exit. They walked to the cliff edge where wind blew the King’s graying hair under a fading crown. A large harpoon flew past and stabbed the creature to the cave wall.
“Nooooo. Martha, what have they done to you?” the king cried, rushing to his fallen mistress.
He was ensnared in a launched net. A group of soldiers surrounded the withering wounded dragon who engulfed them in fire. The rest of the party dove between the mountain rocks for cover. The dragon limped around before attacking the ships. The metal protested and screeched while under fire. An airship fled the scene while another was crunched bit in half by the scaled monster that had snatched it out of the air.
“Oh shit watch out,” cried a soldier.
She scowled at him while smoke poured from her ears and nose like a freight train about to kill. “Get up and finish off that bitch at once!”
A soldier's body shook dripping with sweat. He slowly lifted his shaking head above the hiding rock for a peak at the carnage.
“It’s flown off your majesty, and I think it took the king with it” he finally reported.
Eliizabethy the 13th dusted herself off. As far as she was concerned the King was dead. She was Queen and now fully in charge. An empty closed casket funeral would happen at once. The trash had been disposed of, and good riddance for his value had been minimal. Time would arrive on the side of the next generation to continue a dynasty, but in the interim she would set a proper example for the children. She washed her hands with a damp handkerchief, and then blew her nose in it.