February 7, 2007 - A Tale of Minutes

Chapter Three: The Jesterhouse

February the seventh.  It was a cold, bleak night.  Not to say most nights were neither cold nor bleak, but in particular the wind bit against the skin of any traveller who would dare trek toward Goddardston.  Those fortunate enough to survive the journey were welcomed by friends and family, and were given shelter and rest.  And entertainment.

The jester and his puppets danced for the visitors and the villagers, to distract them from the harsh, cold weather.  His shiny coat, his wily grin, and his jolly dance helped ease the pain of the biting winds.  The jester yelled out some strange word none could understand, but many had heard before.  And then, as if the dance had never occurred, all was silent.  Then the jester spoke.

"On Fridays of every week, fun and games shall ye seek.  After dinner be spent and your hunger, went.  Between the Valley of Morgan and Daniels Hill, in the Field of Wedge, having fun, you will."  He paused for a moment, still grinning, to see the reactions of the villagers to his opening.

"When darkness rides on metal ships, and destruction is caused by the carelessness of a single man, war can erupt.  But joy be in the land, the traitor is found!  Two days past the games, a Sunday it is, our puppetshow of Battlestar Galactica will be.  When the bell tolls ten, be in Olin's Court, in the room marked by the number 107."

The jester then looked to the audience.  He looked at one man, a man in a viking's helmet, and smiled.  The man stood up -- he was a plant!  He had been put there to fool the audience.  The viking then spoke.   "I too, have many shows of puppetry and humour to show on the same day as this 'Galactica'.  Three, I have for you.  The first show is 'Red Zone Cuba', and then my most famous piece, 'This Island Earth'.  Finally, I will present 'The Giant Spider Invasion'.  It will be, I promise, an enjoyable experience. It will occur in the Hall of Founders, in the 106th room, beginning at 1 o'clock.  If anyone wishes to be reminded of this event or any that follow, you may send me mail, with the address of 'mhs', located at BOB Square."  The jester gave the viking a cold look, and directed him to return to his seat. He felt the silence of the crowd on him and forced a smile and continued in his show.

"After this very presentation, and following all presentations this year, our own Nyren will be showing his own performance of the famous 'Babylon Five'.  It will--", he paused and gave a cold look to the viking.  "It will also occur in the Hall of Founders, 106th room.  It is the second set of shows, far better than the first, I assure you."  The jester turned a moment away from the crowd.  His puppets danced for the crowd for the time while he collected himself.  He then turned back to the villagers.

"We wish to bring you, and we, and all, an artifact.  Not just any artifact, no.  This is a sacred artifact.  But you see, it has not been designed, oh woe!  We wish to create a shirt, a cloth, to rend bad taste and frowning to nothing!  But how, how shall we do it?  Perhaps you, oh people, can assist us, yes?  If you have a design you would like to be placed upon the garb of man and woman, mail your submission to 'sfs', which resides on BOB Square.  Oh, it will be a good cloth indeed!"  The jester then turned and pulled the strings of one of his puppets.  In a moment of serene ventriloquence, the puppet then spoke.

"People of the audience, eh?  You like shows and would like to see more, eh?  I have one I think you may enjoy, eh?  It is a marvelous show called 'Princess TuTu', a lovely show indeed, eh?  It will be presented on Tuesday nights, after your bread and mead have been devoured, in the Hall of Founders, in the 106th room, eh?  This first show is called 'Märchen', eh? It promises to be an amazing performance, eh?"  The puppet was placed where he had stood before, and the jester spake once more.

"Between March the sixteenth, and March the eighteenth, we shall have forty-eight hours of games!  Oh, the delight!  The rapture!  Fun and humour will be had by all!  Ah, but--  Where are the games?  Who are our puppetmasters?  Who is our ringleader?  Ah, that is the question indeed. Beginning now, at this very moment, you may begin to advertise any games you may come up with, ho ho!  Does anyone have a game they would like to tell the others about?"  A light shone into the audience, searching for a hand, a person, a face.  At the sound of unquenchable silence, the light returned to the jester.  "So be it.  If you have a plan to run a game of any sort, you may being adding it to our playlist for the evening, as well as mailing it to the address of 'sfs', which still, as surprising as it may be, resides on BOB Square."   The jester then went to the other side of the stage and pulled up two of his puppets.

"These two, as sad as it may be, do not have names.  Will you help me give them names?"  The audience sounded their interest and excitement.  The jester smiled as wide as a river was long.  He placed his puppets offstage a moment. "Ah, what names can we give them, then?"  After many names were displayed to the jester, the ones that seemed to garner the greatest laughs were chosen. The jester brought the puppets onstage again.  "I introduce to you, ladies and gentlemen... 'Ain't Broke'!  'Don't Fix It'!"  The crowd erupt in applause and laughter alike.

"Now, fair souls of the Society of the Fiction of Science, go and descend into chaos!"  The jester cackled as he took the puppets and ran off into the night.  Some villagers stood in wonderment at the show.  Others simply collected their things and shuffled out of the room and onto their next job or item of business.  But they all took a piece of it with them.  And for a while, the room was warm, and there was no biting wind in anyone's mind.

End of Chapter.

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