fyn gula king mal was flat on his back asleep. he snored like a hundred broken rubberbands were tied to his teeth and flapped in the wind of his exhalations. queen mauvis, who slept beside him, woke suddenly from a nightmare of being in the middle of a large group of commoners and servants who were blowing raspberries at her with reckless abandon. she was actually comforted to discover it was the harsh vibrations of king mal's open mouth. she pushed him like usual. he turned over and all was quiet in the royal bedroom again.

at least for one short hour that passed as quickly as the blinking eye.

the time had come for king mal's alarm to ring. it was 4oo am on a monday.

the door opened quietly for the hinges had been wd4oed the week before and in rolled a steel-wheeled cart pushed by a refugee from sudan, one of the lost boys rescued from the coup. he was gentle and moved like a summer breeze, slowly bringing in the elements to ease king mal from his slumber, for it was a mistake to wake him incorrectly. several servants carrying out their sentences in the dank, dark dungeon would testify with bitter regret.

anyway, upon the cart was a very beautiful cat. it was quite large, bigger even than the maine coon, without a trace of fat for it was never fed. it ate affection and no one knew how it survived. still it sat, wearing a robe of polka dot velvet orange and yellow hooked with a chain about the neck and flowing on to the top of the cart.

suddenly, the wheels of the cart emitted a scratchy howl and king mal stirred. the sudanese refugee/servant/lost boy stopped as if his very heart ceased to beat. "motheruck!" he mouthed to himself and the cat shook his head as if to say, "you oil the door but you forget the wheel, you dumbass."

they waited an eternity, just three feet from where they should be to give off the alarm to see if the squeaky wheel offended.

fortunately it didn't and they moved forward with absolute caution, hoping like hell that the revolutions would get them to their goal without further emmitance. for hope dies last.

they made it. you knew they would.

the lost boy breathed out his relief and smiled. his teeth were so bright in the darkness of the royal bedroom that the cat could actually see by their light.
however, he hated what came next. this is when his tail was pulled, for what came out of his throat was not the angry wailing you would expect from a cat having its pride diminished, but instead it made him sing exactly like
louie armstrong.

king mal loved to rise from sleep with a smile on his face.
unhinged i found it
i found it

neener neener neener
fyngula ***returning***

~to the~

blue world

______on saturday,
may 1o::::::::::::::::::::::

cayris joins puppertwinkle and saumboo
farmfish returning in two days. i can't fucking wait. 030508
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