A new day had dawned in the kingdom of Kingdom, the sun spreading its shining rays across the blessed land with such gentle touches that it was almost, but not quite, pornographic. Over each hill, it spread, stroking the skin of the earth with a loving touch, that eventually, dipped even down into the fertile valleys, urging a silent sigh from its distant lover.
Ah, the beauty of cosmic foreplay.
Anyway, enough about that.
Within the garden of the castle of the King of the kingdom of Kingdom, Princess Norma had gathered with her family to address the issue of her sudden transformation into a Viking Goddess. Lord Azku’s mysterious Potion of Miraculous Growth had left her so altered, her own family barely recognized her.
The absence of a kettle drum leaves us all saddened, but there’s no time for that now. There’s a lot of story to tell, and Princess Norma is already growing impatient. You could say her temper is short, actually.
The narrator appears to have the Princess’ hand about his throat. Please wait patiently.
This novel is experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by.
Princess Norma had gathered in the garden with her father, the King of the kingdom of Kingdom, King Lance Kingdom, as well as her sister, the every ready Princess Eazlee, and her brother, the master of all things obvious, Prince Salient.
Since her transformation, her father had spared no expense to cloth and shoe her, in case anyone was wondering. The people of Kingdom were happy to open their wallets a bit wider to assist a member of the Royal Family during her time of need. They were good people, the citizens of Kingdom. Not very bright, but good.
“I don’t understand,” Lance was saying. “Why would you ever want to change back? I mean, just look at you! You are more beautiful than Eazlee!”
“Hey,” Eazlee whined.
“But this isn’t me, Father,” Norma told him, her long white blonde silken tresses billowing in a breeze meant only for her. “For starters, I can’t fit in a normal bed.”
“Easily resolved,” Lance sniffed. “I’ll order you an extra large bed.”
“I’ve got a crick in my neck from trying to walk through the hallways of the castle,” Norma told him.
“I’ll raise the roof,” Lance replied.
His children doubted that he could, but were in no hurry to test his skills as a rap musician.
“That’s not the point,” Norma argued, her bosom heaving mightily. “I liked who I was before. This, it isn’t the real me.”
“You’re right,” Lance nodded. “It’s even better!”
Norma sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and counted to ten. “Father, please listen to me. Lord Azku needs more money to complete his work recreating the Potion of Miraculous Ungrowth. I beg of you, give it to him, so I can be myself again.”
Lance fussed a bit. “I just don’t understand. You finally have everything I’ve always wanted for you, and you are not happy. I swear, being a single parent is really hard. Perhaps I should have hired more nannies when you were young, after your mother passed.”
“Mom’s not dead,” Norma sighed. “She just left you for that weird sailor guy with the black fetish.”
“Yes,” Lance growled. “The Dread Pirate Roberts.”
“Not this again,” Norma moaned.
“My wonderful Buttercup, Queen of my heart, passed me in the hallway as she left. That’s why I said she had passed,” Lance sobbed.
“You do realize that we’re probably going to get sued if we keep ripping other people off, right?” Norma asked him.
The narrator would like to take a moment to point out that The Princess Bride and all related characters and screen shots are ©-MGM. Thank you for not suing us!
Suddenly, and without any foreshadowing at all, Sergeant Sertin flung the hedges open and burst into the garden, where he knelt before his mighty King, head bowed. The hedges snapped shut behind him, as they are hedges, and were never designed to be opened in the first place.
“Really?” Norma groaned. “Must things always get more and more absurd?”
Probably, yes. They must.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Lance cried as he seated himself on his throne.
“Why do you have a throne in the garden?” Norma asked with a note of bitterness.
“Well, I was tired of all my scenes being set in the throne room or my study, so I asked to have this one outside,” Lance replied with a sniff.
“Okay,” Norma managed. “Doesn’t explain the throne.”
“It’s garden variety, of course,” he answered, a tad haughty for the situation.
“I really wish I’d never be written into this book,” Norma sighed.
“What were we doing?” Lance asked.
“Uh, sire?” Sertin said. “If Princess Norma would stop stepping on all my lines, I’d tell you.”
“It isn’t her fault, not with those feet,” Lance nodded. “I mean, look at them!”
“Father!” Norma growled.
“Sorry. Do go on, Sergeant Sertin.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Sertin said to the grass. “I bring ill news from the southern Western Woods!”
“The southern Western Woods?” Lance asked. “Don’t you mean, the northern Western Woods?”
“Ah, no, sire, that’s next episode, which has already been told.” Sertin felt his killing hand squeeze the life from the grass. He shed no tears for it. He was a soldier.
“Oh, I forgot,” Lance sighed in a kingly manner. “What news do you bring from the southern Western Woods?”
“I hate all of you,” Norma muttered.
“Sire, it is Grimfang, the black dragon. The beast is on a rampage!” Sertin exclaimed, in case the exclamation point didn’t deliver the terror the reader should be feeling.
“Grimfang!” Lance cried. “No doubt he has come for Princess Eazlee, whom he wishes to ravish.”
“Really?” Eazlee sighed, eyes growing wide and distant.
“I think you meant to say ravage,” Norma pointed out. “Which is a lot less enjoyable.”
“Potatoes, tomatoes,” Eazlee replied. “I’m not picky.”
“I’ve noticed,” Norma groaned.
“Quickly, summon the mercenary Bill Wick!” Lance decreed.
Sertin murdered a poesy. Norma closed her eyes and counted to ten.
“Father, I believe you’ve got the wrong story,” she informed him when she had finished. “And frankly, I find the narrator putting mentions of his upcoming works into this story just a bit crass.”
“You may be right, but who else can we call? The Ghostbusters?” Lance asked of her.
“Again, that’s borderline plagiarism, and I really wish it would stop. Something bad will happen if it doesn’t,” Norma moaned.
Lance nodded thoughtfully, “Perhaps you are right, Norma. Still, with Sir Coddenpeace lost in battle these last two years, who can we turn to save us?”
“Eazlee, are you okay?” Sertin inquired. “Hearing Sir Coddenpeace’s name does not upset you, does it?”
“Who?” Eazlee asked.
“Never mind her,” Norma sighed. “I would like to know why we’ve never had a memorial for the poor guy. I mean, a tombstone, or at least a marker, you know, something his family could visit to mourn him. Just seems odd we’ve not done that.”
“Well,” Lance said. “We never found his body. After the battle, we looked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. We straight up lost him.”
“Hold up a sec,” Norma said. “You mean to say he could still be alive?”
Lance nodded. “It’s possible, yes. Though, after two years lost, I highly doubt he’ll return at some inopportune moment.”
Norma gave the narrator a foul look. “You call that foreshadowing? You’re an idiot.”
The narrator politely responds by pointing out that Sergeant Sertin has nearly finished slaughtering an entire village of pansies.
“Oh, right, Grimfang,” Lance mused. “Who will save us from the fearsome dragon?”
“I will,” Norma cried in a fashion very unlike her, but still noble in a way.
Lance gasped. “I could never allow such a thing, not in the state you are in.”
“Actually,” Norma said. “The state I’m in is probably a good thing. Cause, you know, I could totally beat the crap out of a dragon right now.”
“No,” Lance cried. “I forbid it!”
“Pops, chill out. With Extra Large Norma on our side, this dragon is already toast. Let her do it, and the people will adore us that much more,” Prince Salient said from where he sat, finely dressed in white, with a sweater tied about his shoulders.
“Prince Salient has a point,” Lance pondered.
“For crying out loud,” Norma muttered.
“Sweet,” Prince Salient sighed. “Well, if that’s all you need me for, I’m out of here. Got a hot date with the Trifecta triplets tonight, and I do not want to miss it.”
“First,” Eazlee giggled, drawing a sour look from Salient.
“Actually, my son, I’ve a favor to ask of you,” Lance said, stopping the staggeringly handsome and well built Prince in his tracks.
“Uh, yeah, I guess. Kind of out of the ordinary, but I’ll roll with it,” he nodded.
Lance smiled. “Accompany your sister and make certain she returns alive.”
Sertin paused in his mass murder of the roses, but decided to ignore it this time.
“Wait, what?” Salient gasped. “You mean, stick around for the whole episode? I don’t know. That’s not really my thing. I’m more a hit it and quit it kinda guy, really.”
Lance nodded kingly. “Yes, I am aware, but this is a special circumstance. Don’t make me order you.”
Salient sighed. “Fine, I’ll watch Norma’s giant ass.”
“Hey,” Norma snapped, then cooled. “Oh, right.”
“Excellent,” Lance said, clapping his hands for some reason. “Sergeant Sertin, inform Captain Cowin to gather his men and prepare to march out to watch Norma slay a dragon.”
“When you say it like that,” Norma sighed.
A short time later, Norma stood before Captain Cowin and his troops, men of able body and strong mind, who looked up at their Princess with adoration. Possibly because her skirt wasn’t long enough.
“I’m wearing pants,” Norma grumbled.
“Indeed you are,” Captain Cowin agreed for no real reason. “Princess, my men stand ready. I believe you know a few of them, at least.”
She looked them over, seeing Lieutenant Blyndli, Sergeant Sertin, some guy she remembered from Barbarian Invasion, Daffe the Dark Elf, a young soldier she’d never seen before no matter which order these chapter sort of things are related in, and a few other people.
“Okay, a couple questions,” she said.
“Yes, my Princess?” Cowin replied.
Cowin looked away, a tear in his eye. “Rehab, I’m afraid.”
Cowin shrugged. “He’s trying his best, milady, but the fame, it’s hard on him. He came from nothing, you realize. To be part of a slightly noticed book, it’s overwhelmed him.”
“I think slightly noticed is overstating things a bit,” she sighed.
“Very true, but there is that one guy that bought it right away,” Cowin nodded.
Princess Norma smiled at that. “Hi, Joe,” she whispered with a wink.
The narrator feels that was a bit much, but isn’t one to complain.
“Well, at least we have Sergeant Sertin,” Norma said. “He filled in very nicely for Lieutenant Tantamount before.”
“Bah,” Cowin growled. “He can’t amount to Tantamount.”
“Please don’t plagiarize other works. It leads to nothing good,” Norma said, but it was already too late.
Several vicars appeared and seized Captain Cowin firmly, holding him still as playwright Phillip King stepped from the shadows of the castle and marched up to him. With a sneer, playwright Phillip King kicked Captain Cowin in the family jewels.
“Vicars, vanish!” he cried. They threw down smoke bombs and were gone.
“I’m very sorry,” Cowin gasped. “Won’t happen again.”
“Yes, well, moving on,” Norma sighed as she pointed at the guy she had vaguely recognized. “You there, soldier, have you a name?”
“Yes, milady! My name is Guy, a thirteenth level fighter,” Guy replied.
“Thirteenth level,” she nodded. “Very nice.”
“Thank you, milady,” Guy saluted.
“He’s very good with numbers and such,” Cowin told her as he staggered to his feet.
“Excellent, we’ll need that,” Norma told him. “And what of this young man I’ve never seen before, regardless of the order the chapters have been told in?”
“Ah, yes,” Cowin nodded. “This is Private Pearce. He’s new to the Royal Guard, but very brave.”
Private Pearce saluted the Princess. “I long only to give my life for king and country!”
“Careful what you wish for,” Norma told him.
“He hasn’t seen the story notes, Princess,” Cowin whispered to her.
She nodded quickly as she stepped back to face the men more fully, turning over a cabbage cart as she did.
“My cabbages!” the cabbage man cried.
“Stop it,” Norma threatened the narrator.
He makes no such promise.
“Men, we go today to defend our kingdom against an incursion of the foulest sort,” she stated. “A terrible dragon has descended on us, and why the hell is Daffe here?”
“I never left, yer majusticey,” Daffe replied.
“Oh, well, I’m sure we’ll be fine without you,” Norma told him. “Off you go, then.”
“Hokey ducky,” Daffe nodded. “I gots me a camaro in this here episud.”
“Yeah, great,” Norma sighed. “Screw it, let’s just go.”
“Rousing speech, Princess,” Cowin applauded. “I felt moved. In my heart, not lower. I went before the scene started.”
Norma face palmed.
And so, the army of the kingdom of Kingdom marched out from the castle, down the city streets, over a bridge, and through the woods, to grandmothers house they go.
“Dammit! Knock that off before I come up there,” Princess Norma bellowed.
The narrator seems to have gotten a bit carried away. It is a lovely little rhyme, you must admit. The rest of it escapes the narrators mind at the moment, but it is great fun to sing when you’re feeling oppressed by the boot heel of monarchical rule on your neck.
As the army passed through the southern Western Woods into the rolling plains beyond, Princess Norma brought them to a halt, scanning for any sign of the terrible beast they hunted. By her side, Captain Cowin leafed through a mens magazine.
“Captain, there are villages under our rule, aren’t there?” Norma asked him.
“Hmm, yeah, of course,” he murmured as he looked over the centerfold.
“Then, where are they?”
“Outlying,” he replied casually.
“Right, okay,” Norma sighed, massaging her temple. “Outlying where?”
“In a field,” he told her.
Norma snatched the magazine from his grasp and threw it Blyndli, who didn’t notice it coming and got hit in the face with Miss October. He didn’t complain very much.
“The villages are outlying in a field? Really?” Norma growled.
Cowin pursed his lips. “You are more surly than you use to be.”
“Forget it,” she grumbled. “I’ll take it up with my father later.”
The narrator forgets why this particular section of dialogue was included, but it originally served some sort of purpose. Maybe. It’s hard to say at this point.
“Dragon,” Guy bellowed, pointing to the sky, where the great beast flew, drawing ever nearer the army. “We cannot hope to fight it. It’s got a sixty three armor class and over two thousand hit points!”
Norma gave him a curious look. “How do you know that?”
“Oh, it’s here in The Kingdom role playing game handbook,” he said, lifting a nice hardback book with a piece of paper taped over the tile.
Norma nodded slowly. “That’s a Dungeons and Dragons Players Handbook, isn’t it?”
Guy bowed his head in shame. “Yes, Princess.”
“Idiot,” she snapped. “Everyone knows that you can only find stats for dragons in the Monster Manuel.”
Guy sagged. “Forgive me, Princess! I’ve failed you!” With that, he hurled himself from a nearby cliff that won’t be mentioned again.
“That was kind of excessive,” Norma said quietly.
“Dragon!” Sergeant Sertin cried, pointing to the sky, where the great beast flew, drawing ever nearer the army.
“Yeah, noticed it already,” Norma sighed. “But thanks, keep up the good work.”
“On it, milady,” Sertin saluted. “Though, if I might point out, we can’t hope to battle a beast such as this. It will amount to a slaughter.”
“It can’t amount to tantamount to slaughter,” Cowin declared.
Norma gave him a stern look. “Seriously, no more plagiarism. It’s bad, okay? We’ll all end up getting sued, or worse.”
Sadly, it was already too late. The narrator has only just learned that playwright Phillip King died quite some time ago, though, so what follows may not be suitable for younger readers. Kindly avert your eyes.
Very good. Here’s some candy.
Playwright Phillip King rose from the ground, moaning horribly, a terrifying zombie, longing only to consume the brains of the living. Even as the zombie Phillip King stalked his prey, the trembling Captain Cowin, his zombie vicars joined him, rising from the earth like a very small black wave of evil.
“See what happens when you plagiarize better writers work?” Norma scolded the Captain.
“Forgive me, zombie Phillip King,” Cowin cried as the hungry dead lurched towards him.
The battle that followed was fierce, with lots of sword slashing and stabbing. Howls of the living dead filled the air, as did the cries of good men being possibly eaten by the living dead. Despite their valiant effort, the forces of Kingdom were soon being overwhelmed by the zombie vicars.
“We’re being overwhelmed,” Cowin cried to Norma. “And the dragon is still approaching!”
“Yeah, what’s up with that? Kinda slow, isn’t it?” she replied.
“I was wondering that myself, but what shall we do about these zombie vicars?” he called back.
Suddenly, from nowhere, a leggy blonde on a motorcycle appeared, a shotgun in hand. Quick as the wind, she began blasting the zombie vicars to pieces, destroying them with her crack aim.
“Okay, what the hell is this crap?” Norma growled.
Putting the rear wheel of her motorcycle to the zombie Phillip King, she dispatched the living dead playwright in a manner far too gruesome to describe. It was gory, is the thing. Very gory.
“There you go,” the busty blonde on the motorcycle said. “I’ve saved you from the zombies.”
“Gee, thanks,” Norma snapped. “But who the hell are you?”
“Oh, I’m Bunny,” Bunny said with a smile and a wink.
Norma frowned. “Okay, that’s it. I’ve had it with the narrator plugging his other crap in the middle of my story. Beat it, bimbo.”
“You’re freaking welcome,” Bunny sniffed. “Remember readers, go check out my series when your done here. Or before that, if you still have some self respect.”
“Go!” Norma demanded.
“Going, geeze,” Bunny replied as she gunned her motorcycle and sped away.
“I hate you, narrator,” Norma seethed.
The narrator would feel shame if he was capable, but he hasn’t been able to since he got published in a mens magazine. It paid very well, mind you, but still, shame died in his heart that day.
“The dragon is still approaching, you know,” Sergeant Sertin said stoically.
“Sertin is right,” Cowin cried cringingly. “What should we do?”
The entire army paused, waiting expectantly. No wise words of obvious wisdom were offered to them, and slowly, one by one, they turned to seek their oracle of common sense.
Prince Salient was running like hell, however, and couldn’t be bothered with the whole mess.
“Prince Salient has a point,” Cowin nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Really? Twice in one chapter?” Norma grumbled. “Fine, I’ll face the dragon on my own. Run away if you haven’t the courage to stand by me.”
“Okay,” Cowin nodded. “Retreat!”
Norma blanched as the dragon landed, a towering behemoth carved from scales, fire and death. When it roared, trees toppled, grass withered, and sacks crawled upwards. Norma, having no sack to speak of, squared her shoulders and hefted her sword, ready to face the monstrous monster.
“Princess,” Private Pearce cried. “I will stand with you!”
“Wait,” Norma called as he dove forward, only to be impaled on the savage talon of the fearsome dragon. His cry of pain was a heart wrenching thing, cutting deeply into every man, woman and farm animal gathered near by.
“Its pierced Pearce,” Cowin simpered, loading his pants. “The poor lad. It was his first day of service.”
“Oh, god,” Pearce screamed as the dragon dropped him in its mouth and chewed. “This really freaking hurts! Holy crap! The pain is unimaginable!”
“The horrors of war,” Sertin said grimly.
“Wow, that was graphic,” Norma said. “Anyway, now that he’s dead, I’ll avenge him!”
“My only regret,” Private Pearce cried out from the beasts mouth. “Is that I have but one life to give for my country!”
“Tough little cuss, isn’t he,” Norma pondered.
“Not really, milady,” Pearce called out. “I’m just… HOLY SHIT THAT’S PAINFUL!”
The dragon got bored with chewing on him a few minutes later and spit his mauled remains back at the army. In true gruesome fashion, the beast then plucked another solider up to pick its teeth with.
“Sir,” Pearce gasped, reaching out for his Captain. “Forgive me.”
Cowin fell to his knee, gripping the Privates, um, hand, maybe. It’s hard to say at this point. He’s pretty messed up.
“Don’t try to talk, Pearce,” Cowin soothed. “You’ll be alright. You just have to hang in there!”
“Sir, tell my girl, Betsy, that my last thoughts were of her,” Pearce gasped. “And my mom. And apple pie. And baseball. And all things good, true and just. And my dog. And my neighbors. And that little stray kitten I use to feed before the neighbors took it in and gave it a home. And that bridge we use to walk across on the way to the grocery store, the one with the cute baby ducks that you couldn’t feed without sending the mother into a fit of bloodthirsty rage.”
“I will,” Cowin sobbed. “I’ll tell the world of your brave sacrifice.”
“I’m so cold, sir,” Pearce gasped. “Where’s the light? I can’t see the light!”
With that, Private Pearce, hero to many, left this world, and went, somewhere else, maybe, or something. He died, is the thing. A brave man, willing to put it all on the line, for those he loved, and the country he swore to defend to his dying breath, which he then did.
“Okay,” Norma said. “So, can I go kill the freakin dragon now, or what?”
“PEARCE!” Cowin screamed to the heavens, his sobs like no other sobs before or since.
“Right,” Norma nodded.
What followed was a battle that defies words. It was so huge, so awe inspiring, so powerful, that mere words can never do it justice. Of all the titanic, heroic struggles that have ever occurred between man and beast, or man and donkey, or woman and dragon, this was the most epic. Epic poems will be written and passed down through the ages. Massive statues that will stand the test of time will be carved. Streets will be renamed. All so that one day, men and women and children and probably gophers will be able look back at this one battle and know the truth. That no matter the odds, no matter how hard it seems, if you believe in yourself, reach deep down and pull on the deepest most deep fiber of your very being, that you can overcome anything. With truth as your sword, and justice as your shield, and probably the American flag in there somewhere, anything is possible!
Of course, a Potion of Miraculous Growth doesn’t hurt anything either.
When it was all said and done, it was Norma that emerged victorious, having beaten back the dreaded dragon with nothing but the steel of her spine, and the massive balls her brother dropped when he ran like a little bitch. Sadly, to the dismay of many, the potion had been exhausted in the struggle, and Princess Norma was returned to her old, plain jane, brunette self.
She was still a hero, of course, just not as impressive as she would have been had she still looked like a Viking Goddess.
“Yeah, great, but can somebody get me some damn clothes!” she bellowed in triumph, to which the men cheered, probably because she was naked.
Even as her moment of victory was celebrated and ogled with fierce passion, Princess Eazlee rested in the garden, her family having left her there. With a weary sigh, she waited for someone to recall that she was there and come save her, but no one did.
Then, suddenly, without warning, and abruptly, she sensed someone looking at her. Turning slowly, fearfully, and with great trepidation, she faced the presence that had approached her from behind.
“You wanna dance wif me?” Daffe asked, staring down at her, or at least, in her general vicinity, maybe. That guy has some freaky eyes.
Dance they did, well into the night. Until darkness fell across the land, and consumed them.
©-2017 (Or 2015, or sooner. Maybe later. Who knows?) Cain S. Latrani
The author of this story does realize it makes no sense at all. That may have been intentional. He forgets.