affame_le_geant_a_speeding_comet fyn gula saumboo, his mind a swirling, turbulent ocean of emotion, left king mal's bedroom a dichotomy of conflicting feeling. he was first and foremost a faithful servant ever grateful for king mal's generosity. without it, he would be suffering the fate of many sudanese refugees unfortunate not to find sponsorship. he had breakfast orders written with sharpie on the palm of his hand and though he knew it would haunt his future, he resigned himself to ignore the unreasonable sentence placed on meeterskeeter and help him leave the castle. have you ever come upon a sight that was so contrary to your expected observation that when you see it with your eyes, when rods and cones bounce it off your retina and the upside down image is sent to the brain for clarification, your mind refuses to accept it and rejects it as reality? this is exactly what happened to saumboo when he stepped into th hallway and came upon meeterskeeter with potentilla's dead body in his mouth. initially, the shock was blinding. perhaps the image was a hallucination induced by stress. saumboo vigorously rubbed his disbelieving eyes and shook his head. his four inch, springy black curls bounced with wild abandon. but, the dull sheen of potentilla's lifeless pupils and bloodstained burberry dress forced him to accept this tragic vision of atrocity. "what the fuck!?" saumboo shouted. the exclamation erupted out of his mouth like a volcano exploding. it startled meeterskeeter by its sudden impetus and whether it was instinct, fight or flight, involuntary reflex, or simply natural reaction, he dropped potentilla. her limp body flopped to the persian rug, coming to an awkward rest, hips askew, right arm caught underneath an immodest twist of the dress. an immediate change came over saumboo like black storm clouds suddenly swallowing clear blue sky. any compassion he once held for meeterskeeter dissolved in light of this crime of jealousy, this murder of innocence. he pointed a stiff, trembling finger at meeterskeeter. his eyes widened and his forehead furrowed into deep lines of hostility. his words were the steamy, fiery molten lava following the previous eruption of his wrath. "you fucking idiot!" saumboo said, stepping closer, he could hear king mal behind the closed door whistling the bjork song that potentilla used for his alarm. "the king sentenced you to the dungeon for nothing and i was actually considering aiding your escape, but now you have dug your own grave, you miserable bastard. i will take you to the dungeon myself." "not unless you catch me first!" meeterskeeter hissed. he shot from his previous crouched position on the floor, scrunched up the rug, and inadvertantly rolled potentilla's dead body where it did two slow motion revolutions and ended up at saumboo's feet. in seconds, meeterskeeter was gone, his polka dot cape trailing behind him like a speeding comet. 011125 what's it to you? who go blather from