By Pat Staley
Once upon a time in the land of Glitz and Glam, there lived a royal family whose wealth and fame were unparalleled. King Ima Chump, aka Man-Baby, ruled over this illusion. King Chump had two distinctive physical characteristics. One was his meringue-like mane of hair that changed colors like a mood ring, and the other were his teeny-tiny hands that could barely hold a Swarovski champagne flute. But his massive ego offset his miniature paws; it was yuuuuge and amazing.
His beautiful, but empty-headed, queen was from the Kingdom of Botoxia, and he had an array of self-important offspring from various other princesses. The male princelings spent their leisure time gunning down exotic animals in far off lands. The young female royals spent time in experimenting with fish pedicures, black pearl body exfoliations, and chrysotherapy (facials with gold dust and fancy oils), in an endless quest for perfect skin. All in all, noble pursuits and certainly beneficial to mankind.
In his quest to rule the universe, he actually bought the Miss Universe pageant mistakenly thinking that this was the way. Couldn’t everything be bought?
King Chump wasn’t a Greek scholar by any means, but he knew enough about Narcissus to name him the patron saint of all the land. To the left and right of Narcissus were the twin gods, Greed and Avarice.
He was greatly admired by the masses for having scratched his way to the top with a mere million pieces of gold bouillon borrowed from his wealthy father, the Archduke Chump. Why the unwashed masses could relate to that tale was beyond the scope of all the wise men in the land.
“I will enclose the entire kingdom with a 50’ wall and within it, the citizens will produce all the goods they will ever need. A tee shirt may cost $300 but, hey, that’s the price of isolationism. And, by the way, the wall will be built by Muslims and illegal Mexicans who will then be executed.” The King borrowed this concept from his dear comrade, Vlad the Impaler, who employed this strategy when constructing venues for the Winter Olympics several years earlier.
The Emperor of the South Land was advised he would pay for the wall to which he said “No effing way!” “Fine,” said King Chump. “I’ll just file Chapter 11.” Being no stranger to bankruptcy, this seemed like a splendid solution to the King.
The King mainly chirped his message to his subjects. Chirping was easy and required no more than 140 words. He trusted only those with a direct bloodline to be his trusted advisors. As a result, his campaign was a bit like Pokémon Go with people walking off cliffs and in front of moving vehicles. No matter. His subjects seemed to have an endless supply of loyalty and naiveté.
Oh …. if only this were a fairy tale.
Patricia Staley grew up in New Jersey and graduated from Rowan University. She moved to San Diego in 1990, for just a year, but fell under the enchanting spell of California and stayed on. She has been in love with words from an early age. She has participated in several writing groups, and has written prose and poetry for various blogs and non-profit publications.