test

Mac53

test

Clankeye

In the Kingdom of Coinalot, things are quiet. Very quiet. Tomb-like quiet. Silence of the Lambs quiet. Really, really. really quiet. In fact, the only sound that is heard is the humming of the castle spiders as they weave their silken webs:

Spider One: Oh, what a tangled web we weave!
Spider Two: ...(muttering) Dumbass.

At any rate, into this eerie quiet enters none other than Sir Dog97. Sir Dog, who has been gone for years. Sir Dog, with his rusted armor and menacing battle-axe. Sir Dog, who sounds like a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil with each labored step he takes into the Great Hall. There, timid citizens huddle, heads bowed, as the Knight makes his way toward the figure now slumped in Coinalot's throne....

Sir Dog97: (thundering) BY THE GODS!!!!!

The words echo through the Hall and drift up to the ceiling. From the rafters a wee voice inquires "Pssssst, wanna buy a weenie coin?"

Sir Dog97: (pointing) WHAT IMPOSTER SITS ON KING ArtR'S THRONE????!!!

From behind the gaudy and ornate chair, appears the Coinalot Court Jester... Shiro

Jester Shiro: (finger to lips) Shhhhhhhhhhhhh! That is the new King--King Clad King! Do not wake him--he is sleeping!

Sir Dog97: (confused) New King? ...Sleeping....?

Jester Shiro: Yes! He naps twice daily. It's really very modern.

Sir Dog97: (narrowing his eyes) Where is King ArtR? (looking around) Where is half the Kingdom? ...Where are the jugglers, the acrobats, the ladies in waiting-- (growing agitated) Where are THE TANKARDS OF BEER!! WHERE ARE THE KNIGHTS OF HIGH SPIRIT? WHERE IS THE MUSIC! THE FIGHTING! THE WRESTLING BEARS! WHERE IS THE LAUGHTER! WHERE IS THE MIRTH?????!!!!!

Jester Shiro: (head bowed) Alas... we are mirthless.

Sir Dog97: IF YOU ARE MIRTHLESS YOU ARE WORTHLESS!!!!!

Jester Shiro: Yea, verily.

Sir Dog97: What reason has this proud Kingdom to be mirthless?

Jester Shiro: Well... first we were attacked by a tribe of hostile blue Indians!

Sir Dog97: (raising his battle axe) AND YOU SLEW THEM!!

Jester Shiro: Um... no. They kicked our ass.

Sir Dog97: (crossing his arms) ANOTHER REASON!

Jester Shiro: ...Then all our coins turned funny colors and died.

Sir Dog97: Turned colors how? Who was responsible for such treachery?!

Jester Shiro: The Medieval Coin Barbers, sir Knight.

Sir Dog97: (brandishing his battle axe) AND YOU SLEW THEM!!!!!!!!!!!

Jester Shiro: Um..... no. They kicked our ass.

Sir Dog97: (slouching just a little) 'Tis not enough. BY THE GODS! You cannot kill the coins of Coinalot! What else?

Jester Shiro: Sir Bear came back from market and told us all the Kingdom's goods are worthless now.

Sir Dog97: I spied Sir Bear upon entering this Hall. Let him give me this report! SIR BEAR!!!! COME FORTH!

Ratherly sheepishly, Sir Bear approaches a pacing Sir Dog97

Sir Bear: Howdy, stranger. Long time. Jelly donut?

Sir Dog97: Good Sir Bear. I know you to be a fellow of strong humors. Of infinite jest and rapier-like wit. Share with me this report you have given the Kingdom.

Sir Bear: Short Version?

Sir Dog97: ...please.

Sir Bear: We're all gonna die!

Sir Dog97: (smiling, gently patting Bears head) Sir Bear... would you wish that I rip off your skull, and stir your brain into a fine mush with thine own rib bone?

Sir Bear: (chuckling) Well, no sir!

Sir Dog97: (red face, veins bulging) THEN LIGHTEN UP!!!!!!!!! ALL OF YOU! LET'S START HAVING A GOOD TIME AGAIN!!!! IT AIN'T THE END OF THE WORLD PEOPLE!!!!

King Clad King: (jumping from his throne) You... are off topic!

Sir Dog97: UH?

King Clad King: You are off topic, and I'm having you banned from the Kingdom! Nothing less will do, bad dog!

Sir Dog97: You can't ban me for saying it's gettin' a little grim around here!!

King Clad King: I can and I will. Numismatics is not (curling lip) ...fun. It's serious business engaged in by serious people. The new modern way is NO Fun. Fun equals Done. In other words... it's my party and I'll cry if I want to. Start having fun around here, and you shall join the unfortunates of the Open Lands--whom we had drawn, quartered, hammered, flung away by the Royal Catapult, gathered up in the Coinalot Dung wagon, shipped across the Bay of E, and finally entombed in some hostile location, which the only thing anybody knows about is that it's open 24 hours a day.

Sir Dog97: (falling to one knee) Tell me how I might avoid this fate, my leige.

King Clad King: (merrily clasping his hands) You must talk about coins!

Sir Dog97: May I mention an amusing ancedote that happened on my journey?

King Clad King: (singing it) Noooo!

Attracted by the singing, the castle madman, MadMarty leaps down from his home in the rafters. He is a choatic collection of rags, bags and tangled hair. He begins to sing

Coins are all of which we speak
Until the knees grow frail and weak
Coins for dinner, coins for lunch
A single coin, perhaps a bunch?
Coins that shower out our ears
To coins we raise a thousand cheers
But, one last thing is still okay
A potato down your pants a day----

King Clad King: MARTY!!!!!

Sir Airplanenut: I'm really not sure if that's... cool.