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The Very True Story of a Very Large Man

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Blue = Andreas Nyström
Green = Fiona Mcintyre

   Once upon a time a cataclysmic upheaval of significant proportions struck the naively unsuspecting inhabitants of the small island community, leaving in its wake confounded clerics, baffled bakers, absolutely astounded apothecaries and intentionally incredulous indentured idiots. Meanwhile, entirely unaware of the islanders' situation, the corpulent sovereign was busy eating. The table was laden with a cornucopia of lard-covered spam, sugar-coated treacle toffee, cream-laden pavlovas, and butter-capped gruel.
-"Bring
forth the royal dessert-maker! I am feeling like indulging my passion in a few of his immensely immaculate heaven-born delicacies," the very large man bellowed sonorously in anticipation.
A hunchbacked, subdued manservant
slithered obsequiously into the ostentatious dining room. "You are too kind, sir. Letting me linger in your gracious presence. Pray with me, for the everlasting enjoyment of chocolate-encrusted fatty salmon with cream," hissed the ominously smiling servant.
-"Pray you say?
To whom should I direct my divine wishes if I myself am an omnipotent entity? To ask me to pray is like asking the inhabitants of a small nunnery to make their gestures of intimate devotion with males present," the corpulent sovereign uttered astonishedly. With a quick flick of his chubby digit he poked the unsuspecting lackey's quivering breast and shouted: "You shan't call upon the name of Humongous Theodor III without quaking in your boots! You sorry excuse for a pudding-creating maestro, you are hereby relieved of your head." "Kerwhooshsquelchthunk" said Humongus theatrically and, with one fell swoop of a deliciously sharp chicken-wing, the master dessert maker had the wing firmly wedged up his left chin. It wasn't the utterly astounded silence which surprised the heavy-set island-ruler, but the chalk-white countenances of his subjects. All of a sudden the door burst open and the most incredibly fantastic roar of appreciation was heard echoing resoundingly from the stout citadel walls. Somewhat disgruntled, the portly king layed eyes upon something beyond his wildest dreams: a man so wild-eyed and dishevelled that he seemed to look directly into the king's bedroom, rather than at the vast array of manservants lining the castle walls. Overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the strangely disturbed gentleman, the sovereign lost his train of thought and began devouring his pastries again. Meanwhile, the naively unsuspecting royal dessert-maker was caught off balance by the chicken wing and toppled head-over-heels into a large plum pudding, suffocating slowly but not quietly in his own pastry.
-"The
true meaning of life is not, as you have previously believed, to sit there idly eating saturated-fat-filled, heart-disease-inducing calorie bombs when your subjects have neither bread nor cake," said the unkempt intruder, "but rather to inspire and help the inhabitants of the small island. They need you now during the cataclysmic upheaval that precipitates the end of life as they know it."
-"What is
it you wish me to do? There is no time to lose on such petty details as which pudding to eat next when there are naively unsuspecting inhabitants of my Island realm in desperate need of their gracious ruler," exclaimed the corpulent sovereign, rapidly gulping down a few podgy handfuls of high-calorie butter cakes.
-"You must
repent immediately and promise to never again eat until it hurts, or else your kingdom will self-destruct in three minutes."
-"Why three? What could
be the underlying meaning of the number 'three'?" wondered the beefy regent. "Why not two or the enigmatic number seven? "
The intruder stood nonplussed
. You are the strangest and fattest ruler I have ever clapped eyes on, he thought.
-"Just
get on and repent," he said dejectedly. "Do you have the faintest idea of the ramifications of your procrastination for your people?" he asked. The podgy king burped, broke wind, and took no notice of the doomsday prophet.
The intruder
gaped in astonishment at the indifference displayed by the flatulent, arrogant regent, and before he could repeat his fateful warning, another odd character entered, stunning the assembled onlookers.
Through the open doors
, a breathtakingly stupendous sight met their eyes: a sight never previously beheld by any of the myriad assembled manservants or the previous intruder. The   

  

Diskutera
The Very True Story of a Very Large Man

Fiona Mcintyre
2004-06-18, 17:01:40
No too bad for a couple of porridge-brains! :)

Andreas Nyström
2004-06-18, 12:41:29
The story is developing quite nicely, don't you think?

Andreas Nyström
2004-06-02, 09:08:44
The mind boggles :)

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