– News about Quincy MA from Quincy Quarry.
Just when one thought things could not become any worse for Pretender King Thomas the First in the actually but modest as well as not exactly all that significant Quincyshire, they did become worse.
The people are increasingly figuring out that the grandiose pronouncements of The Great Pretender are but oxen byproduct in the wake of a devastating fire in old City Hall, his treacherous betraying of his now-former professed lifelong allegiance in the Curiate Assembly so as to instead promote the elevation of Bonnie Prince Charlie of Swampscott to lead the Commonwealth and then sweating out things until the final counting of straws, the repudiation of the confabulated rumors of bogus offer to him of a senior peerage by now Emperor Charlie as well as the unmasking of all manner of his other chimeras.
For but one example from among many, that his plans for a new common for the people in front of his moated embattlement are little other than hot air and empty holes in the ground attempts at self-aggrandizement.
The Pretender Thomas is also having to lay low as well as sweat out the not exactly a lady Marcia Chokely’s final weeks as Chancellor of the Legal Realm.
Among other concerns, his potential abuse as her whipping boy so as to exorcise her past devastating public humiliations – however self-inflicted – by a since temporarily exiled to northern wilds of New Hampshireshire former member of a faraway imperious Senate and more recently by the then but mere Bonnie Prince Charlie of Swampscottshire.
After all, hell hath no fury comparable to that of this rumored to be spiteful female inquisitor.
Throw in the need to hide out so as to avoid any chance of being cornered and so forced to render publick statements about the upcoming property tax tithe, it would appear that The Pretend King has gone a bit daft.
Reports are increasing frequent that he wanders about aimlessly during the night in his imperial suite in full coronation ensemble while crying out “a park, a park, my Kochdom for a park” over and over and over, ad nauseum.
Not since Mad King Ludwik II, British King George III and any number of Shakespearean royal characters has so heavy been the weight of both the crown and public opinion upon an ostensible leader, however much short of stature.
Following is a from memory recollection by French Kiss of one night’s ramblings by The Pretender while among what is little is left of his Privy Council in what even less is left of the burnt out fortifications in the center of the Quincyshire.
Pretender King Thomas the First and increasingly looking to also be the last: What have I not done both during as well as before my reign?
Not once but twice I have smited William the Green on a not level fields of battle; besmirched the always fair as well as faire Lady Anne; and – more recently – caused Marsha to steal honey from the well for my benefit, only to later betray her for her hectoring of my former patron Timothy of Patronage.
I have larded my lieges well as well as provided many with enormous four wheel drive rides. And for the peasants, I fixed enough sidewalks and potholes to – one would think – keep enough of them mollified.
Why, why, however, do they instead increasingly look down upon me?
The Black Knight George of Raygun Prevarications: Well, for starters, you are short.
Consigliere: True that.
Pretender King Thomas: But I host such grand pageants and speak so eloquently.
The Black Knight George of Raygun Prevarications: Tom, as long as you keep making the parades about you, the people will see you that you don’t always fit into your clothes
Joey the Puppet Master: That and so expose yourself to well-deserved barrages of rotten fruit.
Consigliere: Additionally, do not forget that your Chief Architect James of Homes ghosts most of your major public pronouncements as well as that – fortunately – you can read well enough to read his scripts.
Joey the Puppet Master: Now, if only you would finally listen to Pinocchio the Backwalker for everything else and so avoid making all manner of gaffs.
Better yet, let him ALWAYS speak for you.
Pretend King Thomas: But I am the King and thus the living embodiment of Divine Providence.
The Black Knight of Prevarications: Tommy, we are the ones who made you, not Providence. We also do what we can to make you look good – but we can only do so much with what we have to work with and such is you.
Plus, Buddy, the Black Rōnin of Providenceshire would fatally fillet you on the very first pass during a joist.
Pinocchio the Backwalker: True that.
Pretend King Thomas: But, but – I am the one in the Imperial Suite.
Joey the Puppet Master: So far at least, but the people are restless.
Pretender Thomas: But the people – they love me.
The Black Knight of Prevarications: Tommy, you really need to spend more time with those others than your friends and inbreed as well as extended family.
After all, the polling data suggest that you should plan on moving away ahead of an ever-growing angry mob.
Consigliere: For example, to Bhutan.
The Pretender: But – but, I am King.
The Black Knight of Prevarications: Only in your mind.
More importantly, do want your head to end up on top of a pike?
The Pretender: Well, I would thus be taller.
The Black Knight of Prevarications, Consigliere and Joey the Puppet Master: (Facepalms)
The not so Great Pretender: My park, my park, my Kochdom for a park.