affame_le_geant_mal_rats fyn gula "well, time flys like an arrow and fruit flys like a banana," the 911 operator said, "i've gotta go." "wait!" saumboo yelled. "i need you to send some help to the orchard! someone stole an apple trees!" he was panicking as usual. "calm down," she said, popping another bubble. "doesn't sound much like an emergency to me. we usually deal with arrow wounds, arms chopped off by swords, dragon-fire burns, you know, nasty shit." "i'm aware of that," saumboo said. he looked out the window to see what the king was doing and found him weeping into the gaping hole, his shoulders rocking with sorrow. "i don't need an ambulance, or even the police..." "why did you call then?" she asked, cutting him off in mid sentence. saumboo, of course didn't see her, but she was rolling her eyes and twirling her finger next to her head in the international symbol that someone is whacked when her boss asked who she was talking to. "listen, darling," saumboo said, his frazzled tone suggesting near explosive levels. "i don't have time to tell you the freaking story of my life but if i don't get someone sent to this orchard it will be the end of me. please. how about a crime scene investigator?" "i'm sorry, sir," she said. she really wasn't, it was a formality, plus her boss was still standing next to her. "but we don't have access to those. you'll have more success calling a private eye." "please," saumboo persisted, basically falling to the depths of begging. "i am the one with the emergency. i am desperate! it's king mal's apple tree for christ's sake!" he should have never mentioned the king's name. there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone line. life outside the castle walls of broken glass, under the crooked reign of this iron-fisted ruler was riddled with dissonance. king mal was a cancer to kemulya, the quaint village of artisans, the negativity to every step of auspice. the crumbling reason for everything that blows...poor economy, rising inflation, unemployment, high taxes, miserable health care, corrupt police force, you name the problem and he'll be at the root of its failure. the 911 operator's boss just so happened to be the loyal leader of "mal-rats" a militant(straws and paper wads) organization set on ousting the royal couple from their disengenious tower of power. this was a unique oppurtunity to wreak a little havoc. he suddenly came over the line. "hello sir," he said, trying to mask his evil intentions with a coating of sincerity. i'm sorry for the delay on our behalf. we will send 'help' right over to the castle." "thank you," saumboo said. he pushed the off button, shoved the tiny phone in his pocket and ran out to the orchard, completely relieved he had fullfilled his duty. 020413 what's it to you? who go blather from