Turnips’s head ached with the pains of the previous night’s feast. His stomach roiled and the luminosity of a volcano sun tortured his eyes. He quickly threw his hand over his eyes to shield himself from the light.
Strange dreams had plagued his sleep. He had imagined himself to be Hannon, cleric of Heimdall, fighting trolls during the great rear-guard battle at Ragnarök. Why, he had even engaged the great lord in conversation on Bilfrost Bridge!
He thought to himself, “Surely, this must have been the result of some piece of ill-digested mutton.”
No matter how Turnips sought to ease his mind with this rational explanation, he remained uneasy and unsure of himself. The floor swayed beneath him.
Clenching his fist and raising it to the skies, Turnips cried aloud, “Trouble me no further Idun - The woof of darkness you have woven is thick and has hid all delight from me!”
Luckily, Woody, the Admiral and the Planetary Sovereign’s crusty Chief Petty Officer arrived to comfort Turnips in moment of madness.
The Admiral spoke first “Come, come old bean, you’re amongst friends - ”
“Yes, we heard you talking excitedly and I thought you might be composing a new drama so we rushed to your cabin,” Woody added, “and I didn't want to miss out a chance to hone my own dramatic skills. Remember, I played the third Triton in 'The Lokarian Chamber Pot Merchant'."
The Chief, not wishing to miss out on an opportunity to appear in the blog, joined in, “No kidding, we was all a bit confused by all that Shakespeare talke you were spouting, why we was ready to –.”
The chief, however, was rudely interrupted by a fourth party who appeared leaning casually on the cabin door, applauding softly, almost sarcastically into his supple leather gloved hand.
“Bravo, bravo, my good man, bravo” said the shadowy figure, “But, I’m afraid we have no time for this sort of nonsense, we have ports to sack and Marzipans to rescue. When the time comes for poetic recitations, I shall be the one to deliver them.”
As Sir Bocking stepped out of the shadows, Turnips noticed the large badge he wore – a badge bearing the legend “My Green Dragon ate your Honor Student.”
Ever wise, the wiley Chief thought crustily, "Whew, I reckon we can't get to Lord Toranaga's quickly enough."
Triple huzzahs!
ReplyDeleteI knew it would be good as I laughed out loud at the giant picture of George Sanders. He is Bocking I assume.
And brilliant weaving of Dan's epic with Marzipan story line.
Plus, we have the other members of the 12 seat table to flesh out and then kill on our way to the Dark Lord's island.
I wonder what Bocking's profession is? I guess his poeticness makes him a bard?
Naturement! But of course, Bocking = George Sanders!!! It was a tossup at first between Sanders and Jeremy Irons as "Scar" from the Lion King but I thought this best.
ReplyDeleteAnd, yes of course he is a bard!
Now, to fleshing out and killing off the rest (other 12 please don't read this especially Rushing and Fedor)