Dreams and portents

Ahh... what a lovely day it is. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the peasants are happily slaving in the town and on the farms to make me rich. Does it get any better?

Thunderquark claims that he had a terrible nightmare last night. He says it was so real that he fears I may have an evil spirit haunting my castle. Apparently the evil spirit tried to suffocate him with a feather pillow last night. Odd behaviour for a ghost. He's also a bit cranky about some random event that happened in the village yesterday. Apparently his three daughters went into town and caused a ruckus... i have no idea how that could have happened. The problem is that only two of them returned, leaving Pricilla out there somewhere at the mercy of the peasants.

Coincidently Jose is also missing. I'm sure he is looking after her. Yeah... perfectly safe. I'm sure.

So now i suppose i have to send a squad of soldiers into the village to fire a warning shot into someones head before young Pricilla shows up in pieces.

Sigh. No rest for the wic... good looking.

Ode to a Boring Man

If Thunderquark doesn't move on soon I may have to arrange for the spare piano to be accidently dropped upon him. Of course that would leave me with three Lady Falconburger wannabee's haunting my abode like ....um.... haunty things. The daughters three, Pricilla, Belinda and Melinda. I keep expecting to round a corner and find them hunched over a cauldren chanting "Bubble bubble toil and trouble". They have a distinctly witchy feel about them. The peasants hate witches. Hmm... and idea forms in my head like a lion rising from the savannah grass to strike.

I have recieved a missive from my neighbour Lord Flannery von Snotgobbler today... it seems he is on the edge of decarling war again. Against me. Sigh. He will never learn.

Thunderquark inspired me to write a poem today...

Ode to a boring man.

Oh my God.
From whence did you come?
You boring man.
Your voice,
Drones…flat… if paint drying could make a sound… that would be it.
Your face,
Looks like it’s bored of your skull and is trying to slide off of it.
To scuttle away, flop, slither and hide beneath a chair.
Your hair,
Is following your face in an escape bid to be free of you.
You boring man.
You have no right to ever use the word ‘interesting’.
It would be profane.
It’s like someone found the pure chemical element ‘Boring’
Obtained a massive dull block of it.
And carved you out of it.
A moment before they died.
Of boredom.


Hmm... might get Jose the stableboy to take the girls into the village for a tour... right after I get Bob, my advisor to have a drink at the local and accidenlty tell that story about the witches three.

Oh well.. I best be off. Peasants to oppress, apples to eat.

The Lord of Boring

Oh my god. This Lord Thunderquark is such a bore. It's as if somebody dug up a massive block of Boring from the land of Snooze and carved him out of it. Even his hair is bored.... its receeding down his head in a slowly and agonising escape attempt. He was talking to me last night over dinner about the merits of crossbreeding pigs and mushrooms or something like that. I swear i thought his entire droopy face was going to just slip off his boring skull and turn into a puddle tedious boring goo... maybe it would scuttle away and find a new life somewhere with his hair. The man keeps on using the term "It's interesting to know...."... INTERESTING!.... its obscene that he even uses the word. He makes it sound dirty.

Nothing else much has happened lately... the three daughters are orbiting like hawks about to rip a happy field mouse out of the grass...

Oh and I managed to hit that short woman with my applecore this morning. She got up out of the mud... wiped the pig poo off her face and said "Thankyou M'lord" before some children attacked her to get the core off her before she ate it.

It's good to be King. (ok... so i'm not the king...yet...)

Ambush

*Sigh*
As it turns out the unexpected visitor is Lord Thunderquark from the southern islands. Coincidently he has among his entourage three daughters of marriageable age who are all bereft of a victim...er.. i mean husband. I have of course offered my humble castle as their refuge for a time on their travels. As i sit here and write this atop the castle wall i ponder if it might be time to think about marriage. I also ponder if there is such a word as "marriageable"... i think not. and looking at these three specimens wandering about my castle... i also think not.

From a great height

Today I stood upon the wall of my castle and watched the peasants muck about in the mud and cowdung looking for things to eat. As i munched on my apple i though to myself... i wonder if i can hit that short lady from here with the core.

Then I spotted the dust of an approaching party of travellers. Brilliant. Bloody Visitors. Sigh... i suppose i better go down and greet whoever it is.

Tap tap... is this contraption on?... tap tap tap...

Tap tap... is this contraption on?... tap tap tap... hmm... let me introduce myself... Lord F.C. Falconburger...lord and master of Castle Falconburger and all its surrounds... regardless of what the villagers say...