The King can do no wrong
It was a great day of celebration in the shire when Senior Jester Muckle started the apprentice training of Junior Jester Macduf, chosen by the King to be the head jester of the realm. From their vantage point in Witherdumb Castle, they could see the colored flags flapping in the wind, the crowds slopping through the gutter garbage and the grand parade now coming up Castle Street.
“This is the most fabulous day of my life,” Macduf adjudged as he bounced from one side of the crenellation to the next watching the units of the King’s Royal Guard weave through the crowds. The Guard was followed by a display of the King’s military might.
“Look!” Macduf shouted, pointing to a big coach pulled by six white prancing horses, all decked out in ribbons in national colors It was majestic. And there was King Duncan, clad in ermine, showing the townsfolk his most officious countenance.
“But there ‘s only one cannon in his artillery,” Macduf giggled. “Why only one cannon?”
“The generals told him that was all they could spare,” Muckle explained. “But he wanted the biggest parade possible to celebrate the founding of his kingdom so he had some serfs wear uniforms for the day. He called it serfing.”
“How do you found something?” Macduf asked. “What was lost?”
“No, I think you found something when your army is bigger than the natives,” Muckle opined.
“Did you see that big feather in the King’s hat? It has printing on it. What does it say?”
Muckle ogled a bit and announced, “It says ‘Made in China.”
“I thought the King put a tariff on China stuff,” Macduf stated rhetorically.
“There are exceptions,” Muckle replied, without trying to explain world politics.
“The royal coach is labeled “COLLISION,” Macduf observed.
He didn’t even have to ask the question before Muckle was explaining the King’s transportation – Coach One and Coach Two.
“First off, there are two royal coaches – Collusion and Collision. A forth night ago, the livery was struck by a mysterious fire and Collusion was destroyed. So there is no Collusion.”
“No Collusion! Is anyone looking for the scalawags who burned the livery,” Macduf asked.
“A special inspector is now searching for collusion. He thinks it was a jealous husband or the King himself. There is no doubt that a collision will occur. Doesn’t make any difference – the King can do no wrong.”
“Who said so?” Macduf asked, scratching at his classy jester jacket, made in China and bought on the shire black market.
“The King did,” Muckle spouted tersely.
“The King can’t do that in this realm,” objected Macduf. “That would be wrong.”
“But the King can do no wrong,” Muckle insisted matter-of-factly. If Investigator Macloud finds him at fault in the livery fire, he will just give himself an indulgence. Besides the whole thing is a witch-hunt?”
“Who said it is a witch-hunt?”
“The King, but it’s true, “Muckle affirmed. “Macloud will spend a lot of time and money looking for collusion but the whole thing is politics. Lady Goodiva wanted to be queen and got the most votes but the King got the most electors and won his crown square and fair.”
“I think this being a court jester is going to be pretty complicated,” Macduf thought out loud.
“This king does not put up with any nonsense,” Muckle warned. “You’re here because Jester Emser laughed at the King when it was no joke and the King said, “You’re fired!”
“Well, a revolving door at the castle makes for more opportunities for starting jesters,” Macduf observed, hopefully.