| My traveling companion and I were led through a great marble hall.
Sunlight streamed through orange glass windows, shadows played in the nooks and crannies of His Majesty’s palace. (Though, indeed, you must remember that good yeoman Olive and I, Sir Soup, knight of the stubbornly square table, had no idea as to where we were, why, and what we were supposed to do when presented to the King of this fair land. You, the intellectual, must make allowances for such poor people as to bestowed with the name of Soup!)
It had happened thus: a soft-handed, blonde-bearded man in a ruffled pink suit, carrying a hat with a streaming white feather, had dragged us off our path to meet the King. The man seemed desperate, so we went.
We came into a huge marble room and beheld several people who obviously worked in the palace and a blustery knight in shining armor who was possessing of a keen squint. They were all moaning in the direction of some short stairs. I swept back my short black cape nervously and Olive scuffed his boots. He made as much noise as the little black pouf (I think it was a dog…) that yapped at our heels. The pink man with the girlish soft hands leaned insolently against the stair railing that held back the slobbering folk who evidently believed themselves to be worshipful. I soon saw to whom (Or what, as you like it) they were being so rudely ignorant. It was a very short man in vestures as ridiculous as a jester! His great walrus beard was brought to several points. He was about as tall as my two year old son. Everyone chattered and bowed and knocked each other about, so this little fellow must be the King, who was being followed by a hideous dog of mixed parents and probably mixed grandparents.
Olive and I bowed. I noted that Olive was going bald. Narrowly missing the King’s scepter, which he waved wildly about, I arose and saw a dark man holding a lance and staring at us from the shadows.
Upon asking the pink man (out the corner of my mouth) who he was, the pinkie said nonchalantly, “Oh, he’s just a murderer. Don’t worry about-” But I had fainted and had to be carried heftily upstairs.
Olive and I departed the next day.
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