Note: This tale comes from Bribem Beaver Logs On,
an e-book for grown-ups and older kids, available from
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YYM1NC
Or http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/78523
1. Horace Hyena Assumes Control of the Royal Joke Collection
King Leo asked the Senate for a volunteer to take over his favorite department, the Royal Joke Collection. (He didn't know that the populace also referred to his three sons as "the Royal Joke Collection.")
The Collection contained most of his favorite jokes; whenever anyone in the kingdom wanted to publish, or even just tell, a new joke, the Official Jokeeper had to approve the addition to the repertoire. In fact, even to tell an existing joke, the would-be comedian had to sign it out. Since only one copy could be signed out at a time, most jokers made a practice of hoarding several jokes, so they wouldn't be caught short. The Jokeeper had to keep a sharp eye out for hoarders, and the position was usually a one-year appointment because this hoarder-policing challenge wore people out. The Jokeeper also tended to lose his or her sense of humor after about a year.
When Leo made his request for joke collection help, several Senators had to hide their smirks and guffaws behind their paws, as they thought about the three royal-joke princes. No one volunteered. Finally, Ralph Rooster mounted the speaker's perch and nominated Horace Hyena. "He laughs all the time, anyway," Ralph reasoned. "He'd be a natural."
"I do not laugh, that's a malicious myth, as you well know," Horace snarled. Then he cleared his throat and continued, "My so-called laugh is my unique way of barking, as you also well know."
"So do you want to become the Jokeeper or not?" Ralph asked.
"What's the salary again?"
"Negotiable."
"Negotiable. All right, I want three carcasses, one hundred thirty pounds each, per day, one for me and my wife, and two for my kids."
"Carcasses!" exclaimed Ralph, scratching his neck with a claw. "I don't know whether Leo is going to approve three per day. Nor where he'll get em if he does."
"Not my problem," Horace growled. "Three a day."
When Ralph told Leo about Horace's demand, Leo snarled, pawed, snarled again, frowned, and muttered something about high-handed Horace Hyena. "All right," he said finally, "but my three sons are going to pick out three convicts to be executed each day and handed over to this joker."
So Horace Hyena became Jokeeper. But Leo's sons were so despised by the populace that people rose up in rebellion at the idea that Leo's sons would supply meals to the Hyena family. The people seized the three sons, hung them by their belts, and fed them to Horace and his family. (The people almost hung Leo for good measure, but spared him when he threatened to eliminate all references to "the people" from his memoirs.)
Then they set up a democratic government, which has shared power and remained in force to this day. Because almost everything in a democracy has its ridiculous side, the position of Jokeeper has been eliminated as no longer necessary. and the role has been distributed among legislators, lobbyists and others of that ilk.
Moral:
Any king must curb his bent
To delegate to incompetent
Kin and other sycophants,
Lest the lot get hung by the belt of their pants.
Comment
A few days ago I was feeling I had failed to include enough of the dark side of life in this collection. I had forgotten this tale, which seems dark enough. As a psychiatrist, I'm struck by this rapid dispensing of mob justice and lack of due process. Also, I wonder whether Horace knew where this meal came from?
You might think King Leo will appear in many of these stories, but he does not. Is this because royalty has become rather irrelevant in the 21st Century? Or have I ignored him because of unresolved Oedipal issues?
One last historical note: I wrote this story long before the 2011 uprisings in the Middle East.
