Thursday, April 21, 2016

Story 131: The Tyrant Whom Nobody Obeyed

             Everywhere I go, I am surrounded by insolence.
            No one respects my authority; no one fears my wrath.  I demand to be served as is my right and their duty, yet they have the unmitigated gall to laugh in my face.  Actually, they laugh down at my face since they are two feet taller and decades older than I am.
            “Tell me a story!”  My demands are reasonable, I would like to think.
           “Not now – finish what’s on your plate,” is the typical response.  Since I am in constant hunger, I acquiesce simply for survival and most assuredly not to please their whims.
            “Listen to me!”  Why must I constantly demand to be heard?  Aside from the fact that I have far more interesting things to say than whatever it is they are always prattling on about, I should not face a struggle for their attention every time I would like to speak.  Do they know not who I am?!
            “What is it?”
           “Umm… you’re pretty.”  The trauma of that ordeal completely drove away the important matter that I was about to communicate, and I am forced to spew out drivel in an attempt to overcome my humiliation.  Oh, the indignities I must always endure!  What trials I have suffered during the long five years of my reign!
“Play with me!” I instruct my people.  They are here for my amusement, are they not?
            “We’re in the middle of bailing out the basement, honey, you can start without us.”  Is there no end to their defiance?  I will not be ignored by my own subjects!
            “What did you do?!”  They impotently rage as they behold what I hath wrought.  My artwork is sublime and brightens up the otherwise drab walls of my palace.
            “Crayons!”  I graciously hold up my instruments as an explanation they neither deserve nor appreciate.  I then find myself escorted to my chambers in what they claim is punishment – the nerve of these peasants!  You cannot punish your leader!  The mere notion is absurd.  However, since I appear to be deserted by any sort of army that could fight on my behalf, I am left at the mercy of my serfs.  Very well: I will simply withhold affection from them at bedtime.
            That’ll show them who’s in charge around here.

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