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A Bad Bar Joke



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Thu Apr 08, 2021 6:39 pm
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Magebird says...



A Bad Bar Joke

A pirate and a prince walk into a vampire's den.

[ Closed ]


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59 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1373
Reviews: 59
Sat Apr 10, 2021 8:23 pm
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SirenCymbaline says...



Once upon a time there lived a king by the name of Maximus Thottington, built like a righteous barrel, with a jaw fit to grind flour on, and a powdered wig that could stop bullets. He had three sons and three daughters who were also built like righteous barrels, and another one somewhere… he wasn’t very impressive, so maybe we’ll look for him later.

What we’re picturing is a luxuriant garden bigger than your mum, populated by mingling frilly diplomats bigger than your mum after a couple scones. Lined by hedges trimmed into the shapes of pompous exotic animals, scented by the most pungent of flowers to mask the poverty wafting in from a couple blocks down, every blade of grass a peacock in its own right.

“And they want water,” gasped King Thottington, in between gasps of mighty laughter. “Bless them.”

“Haha, quite,” echoed the waves of sycophants.

Today was the weekly garden party in which the righteous king would leaf through the latest reports of the lower classes' concerns, and graciously assess them before an audience. After which the reports were used as toilet paper.

“And the right to trial,” His Majesty roared. He slapped his knee. “What do you think, Aa…”

Oh, bugger. He’d thought he was about to make eye contact with one of his more memorable children, and accidentally made eye contact with the wrong one.
Spoiler! :
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“Oswald?” His Majesty guessed.

The spindly, freckle-faced youth looked up at his father with the incredulity of a dog that had gone after a fraudulently thrown ball.

“My name is Archibald, father.” he whined.

His Majesty paused. He gently rifled through his mental drawers.

“Oh, yes. Good boy. Carry on.” he said. Not disdainfully. Not fully disinterestedly. Yet, even that betrayed a lack of commitment.

Prince Archibald Thottington stood still with his mouth open for several minutes.

The king moved on. The party moved on. Eventually, Prince Archibald abandoned his demonstration and retreated sulkily down the garden path. He ignored the noble girls that attempted to acknowledge him, surely only because his brothers were already taken. Nobody acknowledged him. God, what a sad existence.

...Say, wasn’t he going a bit far?

Oh, but it was on safe, manicured royal territory. Nothing would happen.
  








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