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The Return of the Judhai
Sigh.
Right ho! Yes, it's time for a bit of nonsense, once again. I do like nonsense, in season, of course. :D
Dedicated to
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Beta-less and proud of it. Winks ;D
Seven Pillows of Wisdom: Part Five - The Return of the Judhai
Marciple Proddy, Exalted Micturator of the Church of Vital Things That God Ordered Should Have Been Done Yesterday, sat in his tent, in the Encampment of the King of Djellirole, and pondered what his actions would be that day.
His god, Procrastinor, had spoken to him only that morning, through the medium of an Invisible Screaming Wimblebear, and he was anxious to be up and doing his master's work. "Piss On Them All From A Great Height, My Faithful Servant!" his god had instructed him. "They Need A Bit Of Encouragement!"
Proddy picked up his Holy Prodding Stick, after which implement his father had named him, and set out for the king's tent.
Sue Perb was the king's High Bodyguard. Being six and a half feet tall, and built like a brick privy into the bargain, she proved very good at her job. One look at those thickly muscled arms, and any potential rival for the king's throne went swiftly away and quietly counted his assets, glad to have not been deprived of any of them.
For it was seen that threaded around Sue's ample waist was a girdle strung with what looked, upon first glance, to be a string of sausages, and on second glance had the observer - particularly male observers - heaving up into the nearest bucket.
But Marciple Proddy was safe. He was expected. An appointment had been made.
Thus it was that at Ten Thingies Past Breakfast, Proddy knelt before the king, and issued to him the Word of Procrastinor.
"Er...'I Have Waited Long For This Day,' saith He Who Thunders Loudly and Persistently In The Firmament, 'And I Have Been Flagrantly Disobeyed,' intoned Proddy, staring at Sue, who was glowering at him from across the tent, wondering if he was worth adding to her belt.
"'See That It Is Done With All Speed, O Faithful Micturator!'"
"Thus saith Procrastinor."
"It, um, is clearly marked in my calendar, that on the fifteenth of Gromblock - that is yesterday - Congress in the shape of The Peck of the Demented Rooster was to have been performed within this encampment."
He fumbled within his robes, careful not to let Sue get a glimpse of any likely belt ornaments, and symbolically peed all over King Raybit's feet.
The king sighed. He had expected something like this, and had worn an old pair of shoes.
"Procrastinor said that you have one more day to accomplish this act, or the Wrath of his Mighty Anger will rain upon you..."
"...not to mention another bladderful of pongy pee," muttered Prince Liyjah sitting at his father's side - only not too closely.
Proddy advanced and jabbed his Prodding Stick hard into Lij's chest, making him jump. "You have been Chosen to do this thing. By sunset tomorrow, Prince, or you Suffer the Death By a Thousand Sentient Nimble Radishes!"
Lij had never heard of the Death By a Thousand Nimble Radishes - Sentient or not - but he knew what it sounded like to him.
Proddy tucked his Holy Prodder into his belt, and quickly sidled out, refusing to meet Sue's evaluating gaze.
She watched him go, then spoke. "Shall I turn him inside out and nail him to the Flogging Posts by his Prongle, O Lord of All You Survey, Including Little Me?
Raybit shook his head. "No, indeed! We have had worse Micturators than him! I remember his father, Orifice, very well. Now, he used to drink for a solid hour before giving his pronouncements, and pee higher up my leg. As Micturators go, this one's a blessing. No, leave him in peace, and send me Dawn, the 34th of Froonit, 1399, with bowls and towels, some attar of roses - industrial strength - and some nice dry shoes!"
***
Dom had just come in from his morning ride on a Sniffer Camel, when he received an urgent summons to the king's tent, where Lij wasted no time in telling his lover of the pronouncement. Dom went pale.
"But, Perfect-Filler-Of-My-Pulsating-Fundament, we have tried it! We know we cannot do it!"
He turned to the king. "What happens if we fail?"
Raybit lowered his gaze. "I get pissed on every morning for a year..."
Dom began to look more cheerful...
"...And Lij gets to suffer Death By A Thousand Sentient Nimble Radishes!"
Dom, unlike Lij, had witnessed this punishment. "No!" he whispered, sinking on to a Pillow next to his lover and holding him tight. "Not the Radishes! It cannot be!"
Raybit looked up, his gaze hollow with distress. "Go and practise, together. At least, then, you will have tried!
***
Lij glanced at the table beside his bed. On it were the Cuckoo Nut, the Balancing Premble, the Beetroot, and the Egg. Well, several eggs, in case they broke one. He had had to send Orli out of the tent, as his favourite slave could not help sobbing all over his master's feet, and Lij had had quite enough of bodily fluids for that day.
He picked up the Premble. It was a fine specimen of the vegetable, eight inches long, with the inch-long spikes sticking out of its purple skin, sharp and thin. Lij put it back down on its wider end, and watched it wobble back and forth, until it regained its balance.
"Weebles Wobble but They Don't Fall Down," Lij muttered. Dom did not hear him; he was reaching for the Cuckoo Nut.
"Well, my love, come - let us essay this task. Who knows? We might be able to save you from the Nimble Radishes, and your father from the Deluge.
***
An hour and a half later thunder cracked loudly in the sky above the tent where Marciple Proddy was eating Roast Prembles covered with horscab relish. Suddenly a creature raced in, and he heard the pronouncement, "They Have Done it, Proddy! Go To Them, And Tell Them They Are Saved!"
Proddy nodded, but decided to finish his Prembles first.
***
When he eventually made to to Prince Liyjah's tent it was to find both the Prince and Domrah in bed, side by side. Liyjah had broken a leg, and it was now strapped with thick bandages. He had two black eyes, a broken finger and a dislocated shoulder.
Dom had broken two bones in his left arm, sprained both his ankles, badly twisted a knee, and had definitely damaged his throngle.
However, they both looked happy to see Proddy. "We heard the thunder clap!" Lij said, cheerful, despite his infirmities. What has Procrastinor to say concerning this fetch?"
"Well," said Proddy, sitting down as near to Lij as he dared - Micturators were never welcome guests, for obvious reasons. No-one knew when he would be ordered to strike.
"I was eating my dinner, when an Invisible Screaming Wimblebear rushed in, made its pronouncement, shat on the floor, and dashed out again."
Dom winced. "How do you know it had, er... shat? Are they not invisible?"
Proddy noddy. "Yes, but shit smells, whether it is invisible or not, and I was barefoot." The Micturator shuddered. "It took me bloody ages to scrape it off. Then I had to find it on the carpet, and none of the slaves were of any help. All they would say was that they could see nothing. But I'm certain that they could smell it, unless their noses had suddenly all gone deaf."
"Anyway, your Highnesses, the Radishes are back in the storeroom, and you may tell his Kingness that he can wear his proper shoes tomorrow. Don't think I didn't notice. A Micturator has to have Eyes Everywhere."
"Yes, and Piss everywhere, as well, if you ask me," Dom murmured as the man bowed himself off.
Lij kissed his lover's shoulder. "Is the Premble intact, Dom? I could fancy some, roasted with a bit of Tronkling Lamb."
Dom stared at Lij. "Eat it, O, Wonder Of The Whole Blessed Kingdom, Including The Camel Sheds? After where it's been?"
Lij managed a grin despite his bruised face. "Well, perhaps not. Oh, well, we'll just have to breach the Cuckoo Nut. I'll call for Orli in a minute, when I get my breath back.
But I tell you, Dom, we'll have to start at Page One of Shriek Osmosis's book, and take it easy for a few weeks. My back is killing me, as well as my leg!"
Dom groaned. "So is mine. It wasn't so much the balancing on one toe from the Judhai-Stand, that did it, but it was trying to hold the egg in my mouth whilst I employed the Premble that finished me off."
Lij sniffed. "If only I hadn't taken the weight off one of my thumbs whilst trying to engage the Beetroot. I'll know better next...oh, hell, there'll be no next time! But still, a broken leg is far better than the Torturous Death by The Sentient Nimble Radish. Where shall we begin?"
Dom put a gentle hand on Lij's unbroken thighbone. "What about the Raised Eyebrow of the Gleaming Tortoise? Page Two?"
Lij grinned. "Tomorrow, Lover of My Every Part Including The Ugly Bits. Today, let us rest!"
***
Procrastinor, seated on the Throne of Awesome Power, high on his High Mountain, sent for some Premble. He was hungry, as he had been thinking of some other pronouncements he could make. He had laughed out loud when Dom had toppled from the Judhai-Stand, and he hadn't done that in two or three thousand years. He had to see it again! Well, there was plenty of time for that. Let them recover, first.
Dom and Lij, sweetly asleep, side by side, dreamed the dreams of the just - and neither of them noticed a few inquisitive and very Sentient Nimble Radishes had sneaked into their nightly visions.
Just as well, really.
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Sitting near someone who has an appointment with a Micturator can prove equally as perilous. A bit like approaching the Perilous Bees of Squirm, which might appear in a future episode. :D
I think I have a Wimblebear somewhere about here, but damn, I can never catch it! :D xxx