by Dr Pepper » Wed Jun 30, 2010 7:04 am
I still maintain my theory. Yes, we are told that royal only comes from royal, but remember, the erflings don't have full knowledge of how the world works and it could be that they think of the event of a side becoming royal as a miracle.
----------------------------------------------------------
Big Mac, Supreme Commander of Groov-O-Rama, was bursting with pride. From his position on top of the outer wall of his capital city, Nowsville, he could see a wispy shape forming down below. It was the new front gate, manifesting as Mean Green the Moneymancer converted shmuckers into production advancement. The shape wavered, darkened, and suddenly was real and solid-- a fitting structure for a city that had just gained another level. All around, the assembled Fruggers, Twisters, and Strollers were cheering, their voices automatically blending in 4 part harmony.
Their cheers and his pride were entirely justified. The Swell Tones had risen fast, from a tiny tribe of wandering dancefighters, to a respectable Side with 5 strong cities. And now, to ensure that this would continue, it was time for Big Mac to name his Heir, as he himself had been named by his predecessor, General Practice, as all 20 Supreme Commanders before had been named. Time to go to the conference room.
So. Which of his warlords was most worthy? Big Mac looked around the tavle. Colonel Boogie? Hans Jive? Bobbie Soktor? His musings were interupted by a flash of light at the far end of the room. Blinking away the after images, Mac could see an enormous chair had appeared there. No, not a chair-- a throne. Without a second thought, Mac went over and sat in it. Instantly he felt power running through him. There was something on his head. He reached and took it off. It was a crown! He put it back on and stood up. Everyone else stood up as well. And bowed to him! It was the gift of the Titans, he realized. Groov-O-Rama was now a Royal Side!
He signed for those assembled to stand up. Then he took a deep breath. "My loyal subjects", he began. The words seemed strange and awkward in his mouth. He tried again. "My loyal subjects!" Oh yes, that was better. He felt new instincts, new understandings of etiquette, stirring in the back of his mind. "My friends". Yes that was good, it didn't hurt to call your subjects your friends, it let them know you cared. "Today the Titans have created us anew. I am your king, Mac the First! And what came before no longer matters, for this is our true beginning, let our history show that." Indeed, the memories of everything that had happened before had gotten dark and fragmented. It seemed easier to believe that Groov-O-Rama had always been royal, and that he had always been royal.
Now what was it had been about to do? Oh yes, order the popping of a royal heir-- a big hunky warrior prince with strong cheekbones and a heroic chin.
Read, like there won't be a movie
Game, like the die rolls don't matter
Filk, like everyone is tone deaf anyway
10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
. . . . . . Dr Pepper
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . .4