testostergnome
In through the palace’s doggy-door there burst dramatically a gnome.
(He’d bribed a guard to toss him in with full force. It was the third one he’d asked, the first two having refused on account of osteoarthritis.)
The angry creature, given name of Ralfie, ceased tumbling eventually and bellowed towards the monarch:
— You sit on a throne of LIES!
Unimpressed by this overly dramatic entrance, the king yawned, dryly retorting:
— Yeah, well, it was cheaper than the mahogany one.
This land (Landonia) was, and always had been, ruled by a race of very angry dwarves (this was stipulated in the Constitution), called Testostergnomes.
Their eyes shot, their blood pressure higher than Willie Nelson, their voices booming(although until the booming reached regular folks’ ears it took a while and it turned out to be on the shrill side in the end) — these were the testostergnomes. Genetic lineage wasn’t a factor in this land (Landonia), and, once a ruler died (which happened a lot, remember the blood pressure side note), testostergnome pretenders to the throne gathered to prove their mettle in a single trial of blood. Blood was literally drawn for tests and whoever had the highest testosterone level got to claim the throne.
This also meant that all of them lived at court, close by, so they could be ready to bloodlet & take the throne at all times.
Ralfie assumed a needlessly proud at-attention stance, which was lightly ironic, as he’d always suffered from ADHD. The guards started chuckling, muttering “look at that tiny creature”, to which Ralfie replied “I’m not tiny, I’m just far away” and sidled closer to the throne.
Some of the guards’ horses neighed in disbelief, since they did not understand humour.
No-one took testostergnomes seriously, yet they made great rulers given their magnificently aggressive external affairs policies (it was also stipulated in the Constitution), thus everyone in the realm was pleased with preserving the status quo by having them rule exclusively. Furthermore, they tended to explode from frustration, anger, embarassment or generic irritation at an early point in their life, hence the highly coveted title of King, that came with:
— a throne that lifted them at a sufficient, proper height;
— a palanquin that served as mobile throne for traveling purposes, such as traveling to the bathroom and back;
— a throne in the royal bathroom , on which the “throne” resided;
— honor, prestige, lavishness, a general lack of worries in one’s life;
— perks revolving around scaring the living daylights out of your neighboring countries’ rulers;
— free healthcare.
(^Constitution, first amendment.)
Ralfie suddenly reached inside his cinch, looking for something.
The guards shouted “Look out, he’s got a sword!”
The royal mummer jumped in front of him, yelling “Oh no, a letter openeeeer!”.
The horses did not understand.
Finally, Ralfie produced from his cinch a torn paper scroll drenched in sweat.
- These are your test results from last year’s competition for the throne. You scored 11.3, higher than all other contestants, and actually broke the record of the land. I stole your blood sample and tested it, and it checked out!
— Well, of course it did, I won fair and square, said the apathetic monarch.
— But I also tested it for estrogen and it’s also through the roof! You cheated, you replaced your vial with a woman’s!
— No, I actually have high estrogen too. You may have noticed I’m not that aggressive and I have superb cheekbones.
— YOU HAVE RATHER AVERAGE CHEEKBOOM! Ralfie both partially replied and fully exploded.
The king’s rather average cheekbones turned boiling lobster red and exploded, along with the rest of him.
There was a moment of silence during which the horses produced some valuable insight on the throne room floor. Then, in through the doggy-door there burst an armored badger knight screaming “Huzzaah!”. (The guard had made a good profit that day, which would later earn him the nickname of Tosser. He would not be particularly pleased with that.)
Some more equine insights were plopped. The badger introduced herself:
— I’m Weaselheart the Contender and I challenge all testostergnomes to court right now!
As all gnomes, outraged at having been challenged by a non-testostergnome, swarmed towards and entered the royal hall, Weaselheart started roasting and mocking them with great panache. Needless to say, they kept exploding one by one. There were no more contenders as the gnomes died out, there was only Weaselheart, and the people at court agreed that the status quo had to be torn down, out with the old, in with the new! This was a time of change, of freedom! Everything would begin anew, with Weaselheart the Contender as Queen of the Land (Landonia). She gave a warm speech touching on these keynotes and ordered the throne be changed to a larger one, since her armor didn’t fit in it.
- Hurrah! Hurrah! Celebration! went the crowd.
— Neeigh! Neeeigh! What’s a letter opener? went the horses.
— I think I can afford healthcare now, went the guard.(He would later be thrown in the dungeon for taking bribes, and the nickname would not help one bit.)
The royal scribe wet his pen on the tip of his tongue and promptly made the written changes to Landonia’s constitution:
The King Queen has to pertain to the Testostergnome badger race. They have to have high testosterone acid pH. Foreign leaders fear and revere testostergnomes badgers because of their legendary anger wit.
First amendment:
The King Queen is serviced by a very high wide throne.
Thus Landonia was changed forever.
Originally published at http://trepanatie.wordpress.com on July 13, 2019.
