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Bad Moon E-Zine #1 - New Moon

Page 6

by Tom Laimer-Read

after which he mentioned that he wanted to take her to the opera, as he put it.

  "Oh, I do detest such things! So many notes!" she exclaimed. Still, they attended the event, to much speculative whispering from the general populace.

  The opera itself was a tawdry affair, much like the tawdry affairs that many of her relatives and courtly colleagues had with coquettish courtesans and scullery servants of the day. It concerned a lot of squawking and squealing about not letting passions get the better of your faculties of reason, which Vitriolica found laughable, and stated as much to all those within earshot.

  "What lamentable dimwits these opera sorts are, Trebla! Take me away from this place to somewhere more solemn and soundproof!"

  The Royal Box was evacuated to much bluster and kerfuffle, and the Queen's party retired to a dining chamber at one of her expensive palaces to chortle about the sorry spectacle that they had just witnessed.

  - § - § - § - § - § -

  Sir Trebor Leep was the favoured candidate for the next Prime Minister of the time. His famous Leepers were automated law enforcement officers who mechanically leapt on people and incarcerated them if they committed a crime, misbehaved in any way, or so much as looked as though they were a teensy bit shifty. The incumbent Prime Minister was Lord Snydey, 2nd Viscount Milliaw Balm Snydey to use his full title, of the Ghiw Party, who allowed for a fairly liberal, lenient society to exist under his influence. For Vitriolica, this simply would not do. There had been the recent scandal concerning Snydey's wife being found having intimations with the outrageous, outré poet Lord Byrite. This greatly disheartened Lord Snydey, but he persevered with his career in public office, ignoring the sniggers and sniping comments of his more importunate colleagues. He had also overseen the instigation of the trial of the Tadpole Martyrs, a rowdy band of rabble-rousers who had taken to swearing at everyone who came within earshot, which was nothing but sheer depraved vulgarity if you ak me. Some saw the trial as a grievous imposition on public life, while others applauded the moral standpoint that Snydey had taken. People could be quite picky and pernickety like that.

  Eventually Snydey was defeated by a vote of no confidence in parliament, and a new political force came forwards to take his place in the form of Trebor Leep.

  Leep was a very serious man, almost entirely without emotion. He had a stern demeanour, and liked to be in control of any given situation. Leep asked his political colleague the Duke of Notellingew, a powerful figure in Great Tribian, a former war hero and inventor of steam-based self-propelling boots that did all of the walking for you, as well as a previous prime minister himself, if he would put in a good word for him with the queen. Notellingew was known by the nickname 'The Iron Duke', as he enjoyed ironing so much, and loved nothing more nor less than a neat, crisp crease in his trousers. Steam-powered trouser presses were not for him.

  "Notellingew old bean, would you mind awfully asking the dear queenie if she wouldn't mind installing some of my swanky new automated chamberpots in her vestibule, instead of the dull devices that she has there at present?"

  "Well, old chum, I'll see if I can't put in an advantageous word, what?!"

  Leep was despondent that his party, the Storie Party, who were fond of tall tales, were not in favour at the palace, where instead the Ghiws held sway. This was partly due to the chamberpot situation, as whoever held control over the monarch's chamberpots had the key to the nation's business, so to speak. Women, who were not allowed to vote, since how could you expect them to concentrate on such important and weighty undertakings, were hereby allowed to exert some small amount of power and influence by operating the bedpans and chamberpots of the country, and influencing the monarch's decisions as they waited for the famous Royal Wee. Of course, these women were of high class, and mostly advised by their fathers or husbands, who were honourable men, on what matters to suggest to Her Majesty during ablutions. Nonetheless, they did occasionally offer their own suggestions too, and it turns out were rather insightful.

  The Duke of Notellingew knocked at the door of the queen's bedchamber and waited patiently. Orla answered with caution.

  "What is it now? What do you want?" she snapped.

  "I was told that I was to be allowed an audience with the queen!" boomed Notellingew.

  "What does she need an entire audience for?! She only wants to speak with you on your own!"

  "Well, yes, that will do, woman. It's merely a figure of speech, in any case."

  "I don't give two hoots what sort of cases you've been poking about in, just come through quickly, have your say and be swift about it!"

  The disgruntled duke bent forwards and entered the inner chamber.

  "Your majesty! It is such a delight to see you, and I must say how regal you are looking today. Madam, please hear me out, for I must press you for a personal favour."

  "Don't you dare go laying your hands anywhere near me or I'll scream! I've heard all about your fixations with irons and trousers, and I don't mind telling you I don't like the sound of it one bit!"

  "It was merely a figure of speech, Your Highness."

  "Well, don't you try anything, right? Or I'll have my Trebla on you! What is it, anyway?"

  "I must humbly enquire whether you could see fit to replace some of your current chamberpots with a number of new, ahem, implements that would be seen as a more balanced approach to your ablutionary activities in the political, and indeed potty-based, sphere."

  "Well I never! The very cheek of it!"

  "Both cheeks, invariably, Your Imperious Majestical One."

  "Don't go giving me orders about where I should park my regal posterior! I'm the one who gives the go ahead for what constitutes the royal flush round here, and nobody else!"

  "It would be seen by the general populace as a sign of goodwill to them and the government that stands in their name."

  "Oh, pooh to the people! They can go wash themselves down the drain for all I care!"

  "I'll take that as a no then. Mr Leep will be rather displeased, but be that as it may, you are the regent, whatever you say must stand, or sit, depending on what you're up to, or down to."

  "Exactly."

  - § - § - § - § - § -

  Trebor Leep was infuriated by the Queen's snooty response, but not entirely surprised.

  "Well, Notellingew, I could well foresee this eventuality, which is why I had another little scheme tucked neatly up my sleeve."

  "A dirty handkerchief? Do you want to stifle her with it?"

  "No, you imbecilic buffoon and dunderhead! I mean I have an idea! A crafty scheme! These new chamberpots that I have had my men design are no ordinary chamberpots. Oh no, indeed! They're a great deal more complicated. They perform all the necessary requirements for you, including the wiping and the finishing off, and can be programmed to administer all manner of other functions, one of which is to install themselves in a household and cleanse the entire surroundings of 'unwanted' materials, which we can of course select as being the opposing chamberpots, or other unwanted items!"

  "Ah ha! You shuddering old renegade, you! This way you can slyly infiltrate the royal influence without anybody ever finding out!"

  "Exactly! Cheers, old bean!"

  "Odg save the queen - because we certainly won't!"

  - § - § - § - § - § -

  At the allotted hour, on the allotted day, in the allotted place, a lot was about to happen. Leep had prepared his self-propelling chamberpots to rise up and overthrow the existing bedpans that were in place in the palace, thereby controlling the seat of power. His compatriot Notellingew had issued him with instructions on how to reach the queen's central chamber, and given him some brief military advice should a standing, or indeed sitting, battle ensue.

  "We'll wipe the floor with these wet water closets!" jeered Leep, readying his robotic army for release. "On my command, approach! Get ready... commence!"

  The set of metallic steam-powered machines moved steadily along, rolling and sliding up the path towards th
e palace and onwards to the queen's chamber. At the entrance to the palace they slipped past the Gooseeater Guards, who were too busy concentrating on marching to notice the quietly rolling devices slip by.

  The chamberpots wove around the palace corridors, navigating them according to the plans and dimensions laid down by Lord Notellingew. As they passed one area, a small, china female figurine twitched and came to life, following the passing devices with her swivelling eyes. When they had disappeared from sight, she rose to her feet mechanically and stomped down the hallway after them, summoning her companions as she went.

  At the entrance to the queen's bedchamber, a mechanical marionette standoff took place.

  A set of automated dolls that looked like many previous princesses of the realm lined the doorway. These mechanised machines marauded through the royal halls, smashing into one another, pieces and parts spilling and splintering everywhere. It was complete and utter carnage, with crankshafts and cogwheels flying in every direction; some dolls were walking around with no heads and springs popping out, while the mechanised bedpans got dented and destroyed. Hearing the appalling noise, the Gooseeater guards had finally been roused to action. They stormed the passageway, using their large, spiky pikes to stab at the encroaching devices. Leep's bedpan battlers advanced, clashing with the throng of china sentinels and guards.

  In the fracas a few of the

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