I sit at the counter, the hood of my black cloak pulled over my eyes. I'm facing you, but you can't see my eyes. I ignore you for now, try to pretend you're not there. You're just another one of those people who hang upon my lips, hoping to hear some word of what the famous King Galileo Petrick will say next.
Instead, I just sit and stare at my cup of ale and wonder...what the hell could happen next? In the past twenty-four hours, I experienced the following: one flood, two shipwrecks, one earthquake, one knife fight, one fist fight, one volcano eruption, and...well, this is the embarassing part...
One kiss.
Okay, the fights I could handle, the flood I could handle...the earthquake was tough, but I could still handle it. The volcano was a walk in the park, and the shipwrecks were minor inconveniences. The kiss was what really threw the day out of wack. I mean, seriously, after not having had any physical contact with another human for at least the past three years, suddenly to have one throwing her hands about my neck and kissing me like I was some kind of hero or something? Come on! I deserve a little leeway for freaky feelings here, right?
I didn't even do anything special. The stupid chit had been stuck on a rooftop during the above-mentioned flood, and all I did was pull her off on my way by. Ask my friends...okay, bad idea, since I actually don't have any. Ask my enemies - no shortage there - and they'll tell you I'm not the type of hero women dream about and kiss. I'm not even the ruggedly handsome, gruff but kind hero type. I'm not the hero type at all. I'm really more of a regular guy with an extraordinary talent for getting himself into big trouble.
I don't usually tell stories about my trouble - in fact, I'm not really the story-telling type at all. But right now, I'm just sitting here waiting to see what the hell could come next, so while I'm waiting, I might as well tell you, right? So I pull my hood up a little closer to my face and clear my throat. You lean forward, your eyes lighting up in your boyish face. You think I'm some sort of outstanding hero, someone to look up to. It's just a fluke, my boy. It could have happened to any other guy, believe me. Fate just picked me, I guess. I take a deep breath, and begin to talk.
***
The trouble started, as it almost always does, at my chrismation. Since chrismation is not a common practice nowadays, I'll explain...it's what rich people do to give their children names. Yeah, I'm rich. Extremely rich. Actually, I'm the ruler of a rather large kingdom, but I never really go there. My stewards have done excellent jobs.
Anyway, my parents, the king and queen, really wanted me to invite fairies to my chrismation, despite the problems that so many have had in the past. My parents made extra extra sure, I'm glad to say, to invite all of the fairies in the land to the castle for my chrismation...and none were left out. They all arrived, happy and smiling in their carriages of gold and diamonds. They arrived fashionably late, just on time to make a great entrance into the church.
At the front of the church lay my cradle, where my mother rocked me gently and I kicked happily in my sleep, dreaming, I am sure, of absolutely nothing. On a completely unrelated side note, do babies dream? Whatever, anyway...
The faires strode, en masse, to the cradle and lined up quickly (they had a lot of practice) from oldest to youngest, all thirteen of them. The first one was the wisest of them all, so she stepped forward and gave me a very useful gift.
"You will be able to sleep in trees without falling out," said the oldest fairy in her gentle voice. "And he will not be afraid of heights." My mother looked up at her sharply, grimacing.
"Thanks you...although I'm sure my son will not be sleeping in any trees, I'm sure the gift will come in handy."
The next fairy stepped forward. "I give young Galileo the gift of flight." I have always thanked her for that particular gift, but my mother was horrified. She was imagining having to strap her baby down in the stroller so it didn't float up into the clouds and get poked by a star or something.
"Thank you so much," said my mother, her scowl deepening.
"Young Galileo will always be able to have sex safely," said the next fairy. My mother dropped her fan on the floor with a clatter and glared reproachfully at the fairy. "Sorry," said the fairy hastily. "I mean, he will...ah...never age past thirty!"
Mother groaned. "That's better...I think. Thank you."
Well, the rest of the fairies continued on this frightful vein, and my mother was sure by the time they were finished that I had become some sort of monster baby. I was immortal, able to fly, not afraid of heights, able to eat anything without it harming me, always have healthy teeth (no dentist bills!) and on and on. By the time we had reached the thirteenth fairy, my mother's face was white and her hands clutched my cradle in a ferocious grip, no longer gentle and soothing.
"And what have you got to say?" snapped my mother.
This was it. The last one. Would this fairy's gift rectify all the others of such poor taste? The fairy didn't look like someone with good taste. She had green streaks in her black hair, with blue glittery eye shadow. She had a cigarette hung between her lips, which she removed only while casting the spell. She haphazardly held her wand over my cradle and gave me my last gift.
"Galileo will never have a dull moment."
As soon as the black dust left the end of her wand and settled over me, my cradle spontaneously exploded. My mother got a splinter in her hand was taken to the infirmary, sobbing, and I lay in the middle of the pile of debree, cooing happily as babies will.
Gotta go, but this is the beginning. Should I finish it? Whaddaya think? Do you want to know what happens or are you bored out of your mind? I really want to know what you guys think, so give it to me straight and narrow! *braces for a harsh crit*
I enjoyed it all the way through, and I don't think I found any errors whilst reading. Except, I have one tiny nitpick about this sentence:
