November 1, 2006

• We're on our way!

  Unfortunately, I could only manage a little shy of 600 words before crashing, but here they are:

  Zoppo dropped to the floor with practiced skill to avoid the candlestick headed his way.
  
  "I'm terribly
  sorry, sire, we've done the best...." he squawked, nimbly rolling to
  the left so the book missed him that was on the candlestick's tail. 
  "Perhaps we'll have more success tonight?" the little man continued,
  scrambling behind a velvet and ironwork settee due to the barrage of
  bric-a-brac that was zooming toward him.

  Fortunately the irate
  king's fury outpaced his aim.  Finally he tired of heaving
  candlesticks, books, inkstands, paperweights, and goblets at his head
  footman, subsiding onto a finely carved wooden bench.  Irritably the
  king brushed back the long lock of hair that had become unstuck - he
  was thinning on top, but wasn't going bald gracefully - and looked
  around for Zoppo.  After peering around, behind and under various
  pieces of furniture, he spotted him huddled on top of a large
  bookcase.  As Zoppo peeked over the rim, the king scowled up at him.

  "What the deuce are you doing
  up there, Zoppo?"  he demanded with a combination of annoyance and
  curiosity.  His head footman was no more than four and a half feet
  tall, while the bookcase in question stood at least seven feet tall. 
  How'd he manage to get up there without help?

  "I...I really don't know, sire" replied Zoppo in a quavering voice.  "I suppose the inkstand, er, inspired me, as it were.  It is
  solid bronze, you know."  He sat cautiously up and looked around,
  trying to decide on a means of descent.  There didn't appear to be one
  at hand.  For a long moment the eyes of the king and the head footman
  met and held; both looked away at the same moment.

  Sighing, the
  king turned around with his back to the bookcase.  "Well, come on, man,
  hurry up.  You weren't planning on staying perched up there forever,
  were you?" he grumbled as he waited for the footman to make his move. 
  Gingerly Zoppo swung a leg over the rim of the bookcase, putting his
  left foot onto his sire's right shoulder.  Once Zoppo was securely
  established, the king raised his right hand to take hold of the
  footman's right ankle.  Balanced in such a delicate manner, the king
  slowly lowered himself until Zoppo could hop down to the floor. 
  Stiffly the king straightened, absently rubbing the weight-bearing
  shoulder with his left hand.  "I think you're putting on weight,
  Zoppo," he observed mildly.  "Perhaps it'd be best to skip the
  chocolate pudding for a while."

  Zoppo's fondness for chocolate
  pudding was a well-known fact around the castle.  Grimacing, he
  absently patted his rounded tummy.  "Oh, I don't think so, sire.  I
  haven't gained an ounce in ten years."

  "Uh huh" the king murmured skeptically.  "Well, you should know."

  Emboldened
  by this, Zoppo began to sidle toward the twelve-foot tall, heavily
  carved doors which led to the Great Hall.  "Begging your majesty's
  pardon, sire, but there are quite a few things requiring my attention. 
  A head footman's job is never done, you know!" Zoppo tried for a light,
  careless chuckle but instead a nervous giggle came out.  The king's arm
  swiftly reached out and he clamped a firm hand on the rapidly departing
  footman.

  "Oh, no you don't" he growled.  "You have yet to explain to me why you failed in the commission entrusted to you for not twice, but the third time."  Resolutely he swung Zoppo around to face him.
  

  ---

  More tomorrow.  G'nite!

  
  

  • 1:51 am
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