Bookbub: http://bookbub.com/authors/arizona-tape
Twitter: http://twitter.com/arizonatape
Skye’s Note
First of all, thank you so much to my most amazing co-author and favourite vampire, Arizona Tape. This story would be only half as funny without you.
This may be the first co-written story I’ve published, but it’s not the first reverse harem. If you liked Lucy, I’m sure you’ll also adore my character Wyn and her four Guardians in Winter Princess, a paranormal reverse harem set in Scotland.
Not out yet, but up for pre-order is my dystopian reverse harem Polar Destiny featuring some very sexy bear shifters (including a polar bear!). Another book that can be pre-ordered is From the Deeps, a paranormal reverse harem with kelpies, wraiths and a rather cute incubus that I’ve co-written with the amazing Laura Greenwood (who also organised this anthology).
If you prefer a list, here you go:
Daughter of Winter Series (Paranormal RH)
Winter Princess
Winter Heiress (2018)
Winter Queen (2018)
Ruined Heart Series (Fantasy RH)
Heart of Time
Heart of Four (2018)
The Drowning Series (Dystopian RH)
Polar Destiny (2018)
Anthologies
Streets of Winter – Snow and Seduction (Contemporary RH)
Highland Butterflies - United in Love (FF romance)
Alone - Unusual Fairy Tales (Sci-Fi RH; January 2018)
Mother of Gods: A Winter Princess Prequel - Unusual Myths (January 2018)
And a few words about me:
Skye MacKinnon tells stories about science for a living - but at night she writes fiction, mainly fantasy. When she's not writing, she's out and about with her camera, or spends time with mythical creatures and the odd vampire living in her kindle.
Usually, there's tea and cake involved.
She lives in Scotland with her two overly spoilt house rabbits and a few hundred self-obsessed characters constantly asking her to tell their stories. One day she will. Promise.
To find out about my current and future books (yes, I just switched back into first person), you can subscribe to my newsletter or follow me on social media.
Newsletter: https://skyemackinnon.com/newsletter.html
Website: http://skyemackinnon.com/
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Friday 13th December: A Parable in Two Parts
Josh Bertetta
Day Two
On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me…
Friday 13th December: A Parable in Two Parts
Josh Bertetta
A Modern Fairy Tale in Three Parts (Satire)
Two Turtledoves are at the center of an Ogre King’s evil plot to make his Kingdom, once a mighty land, great again by planting gigantic mushrooms throughout the world.
Part I
Once upon a time there was an ogre named Grumpf who became king of a once great and mighty land.
Now, before I get to my story proper, a few preliminaries—a setting of the scene if you will—are in order. First, I find it necessary to tell you a little of this ogre and his physical peculiarities, for such play an important role in his being enthroned, the process of which is the second fundamental fact about him that is integral to the first part of my story.
And since I am on the topic of his being named king, let me begin by saying that upon his coronation, he, as was custom, adopted an official title. He chose for himself “Almighty Grumpf the Great Again,” or AGGA for short. He chose, in other words, a palindrome. Read it forwards, read it backwards. It’s the same thing, like “dad” or “mom” or “racecar.”
Pretty genius isn’t it?
Better yet, as I’ll share in short time, it isn’t the only palindrome associated with Grumpf’s ascension to the throne.
Ogres, as I am sure you are familiar, share a particular body-type and Grumpf’s was no different. Surely there are bigger, more muscular ogres out there, but Grumpf, you might say, was as typical as typical can get. Relatively short in stature with a protruding belly and short, squat legs. His head somewhat small in proportion to the rest of his body. And oh yeah, you know how when you look at a toad its mouth is always downturned? As if toads are incapable of smiling? That’s what Grumpf looked like.
Earlier I said I was going to share with you some peculiarities. As you may surmise, there is nothing peculiar in what I have just described, for as I said, Grumpf was an ogre and the above description is what most ogres look like, superficialities notwithstanding.
So I guess it’s about time I get down to the brass tacks. Contrary to most ogres, Grumpf was not bald. Truth be told, his generous coif set him apart from others of his species and, if I may be so bold, helped him win the crown. For you see, his hair was made of gold. The thinnest strands of gold. So thin, in fact, that (according to some at least) he had to pin it back to keep it from falling out (or, as some insist, off).
Most ogres, as I am sure you are aware, are either green or grey. Honestly, have you ever seen a red ogre or a blue ogre? No, no you haven’t. Nor have you seen an orange ogre.
Not, that is, until Grumpf stepped onto scene. Yes, Grumpf was orange. As to how he achieved his unique coloration there has been much speculation, particularly since photos of Grumpf as a youth show a light green ogre, specifically the color of, say, bile (which may or may not have explained his choleric temperament).
As to the theories of his coloration, there are two and both involve carrots. Carrots, as I am sure you also know, are said to be good for the eyes. And, of course, ogres are known for poor eyesight. Thus the first and probably most popular theory suggests that Grumpf simply ate a lot of carrots and by a lot I mean tons. Ogres, after all, have voracious appetites and Grumpf’s appetite is said to be legendary.
Second, there are those who suggest Grumpf used carrots as suppositories. And why, you might ask, would someone stick a carrot up one’s bum? They wouldn’t. I mean, really, who would want to stick a carrot up one’s bum? But we’re not talking about your average Joe here. We’re talking about Almighty Grumpf the Great Again, the royal palindrome. Ogres, as I have already said, are known for having poor eyesight; they’re also known for being quite dimwitted as well. Thus, according to some, the answer to the question as to why Grumpf would insert carrots into his rectal cavity is really quite simple: when he learned carrots were good for eyesight, he thought they meant one’s brown eye.
Hence the carrot up the bum.
Makes sense doesn’t it?
That being said and just to be sure, Grumpf railed against people saying he was orange. Instead, he would insist, over and over and over again, “I’m peach.”
Onto the third unique aspect of Grumpf’s physiology: his hands. No one knows exactly when or how he lost three of his five fingers, but by the time he became a public figure (long before his coronation), he possessed only a thumb and a forefinger.
I, for one, share the opinion with a great many others that the middle to pinky fingers just fell off from lack of use. See, he needed that one long index finger to point at people for all the reasons one needs to point at people. You need to point to direct someone’s attention toward something like when you say, for example, “I want that.” “That” being the object toward which the index finger is directed. You might point upward when you want to emphasize something as Grumpf so often did once he announced his desire to ascend to the throne. You also need that finger to point at others you want to accuse, the ones upon whom you want to assign blame. (Of which he also made ample use once making the announcement.)
As far as his thumb goes, we
ll, that should be obvious, for while he can speak, he found he could communicate with a much greater audience across a much greater geographic area with nothing but his thumbs and his handheld device. Prop it against his forefingers, and type type type away.
Genius right?
A downright evolutionary masterpiece.
Even better, the two fingers on each hand worked in perfect harmony. Symmetry really, like a gold medal-winning synchronized swimming team. Imagine all the meaningful gestures you can make with just a thumb and a forefinger. Well, Grumpf made use of just about all of them. Take, for our first example, when, on the campaign trail, he, in speaking of his opponents would refer to them with his right hand. Thumb extended to the side, forefinger erect, he made the shape of an “L.”
For “loser” of course.
So now we are getting into the second of my two previously mentioned preliminaries for as you can see, I have tied his physical description to the processes involving his coronation.
Back to his hands. This one you can try along with me. Hold the index fingers on both hands upright. Now set your thumbs at an angle. Touch your thumbs together. What do you have?
If you said a “W” then you are right.
And what does W stand for?
You guessed it, “Winner.”
Thus on the campaign trail did Grumpf speak of two groups: the Winners and the Losers.
Moreover, he’s speak again and again and again of all the winning they were going to do.
“We’ll be winning so much,” he would claim, “that we are going to get tired of so much winning. No one will ever win as much as us. We’ll be the best winners. Believe me.”
Another gesture of which Grumpf made ample use became a symbol of his campaign. Supporters everywhere, even those who had not chopped off their middle, ring, and pinky fingers in support of their candidate, made the sign.
If you want to follow along, please do. If you don’t that’s alright by me too.
Here are the instructions, again for both hands: simply touch the tip of your forefinger to the tip of your thumb. You have an “O,” right?
Now what Grumpf would do was put them together. What happened next was one of the wonders of the campaign trail.
After the image of the two Os touching one another hit the airwaves and social media, the sign became something of a sensation. One the one hand, two Os next to one another is our second example of the palindrome. Some say this was the inspiration for his insistence on giving his royal title the palindromic form.
Anyway, the double-O sensation became a chant and everywhere on the campaign trail where Grumpf rallied his supporters, each and every time he would make that gesture you’d have thousands chanting “oo-oo-oo” like a troop of rabid monkeys.
But monkeys of course cannot vote and, as such, did not make up the core of Grumpf’s constituency.
So who did you might ask?
The trolls of course.
And this precise fact is exactly what made Grumpf’s rise so quizzical if not downright head-scratching for as everyone knows, ogres have never done anything for trolls. Except, maybe, keep them confused and, as if employing the most nefarious of the witch-kind, acting against their own self-interest.
So out of the woodwork they came first by the hundreds, then the thousands, then the millions.
“Oo-oo-oo” took on something of a life of its own. In some respects, it remained a simple rally cry. Some of his supporters used it as shorthand for “oo-oo-look at him” or “oo-oo, what’s he going to say (or do) next?”
In so doing, the trolls fell right into his two-fingered hands.
He had them looking, had them talking, had them fixated on him and his spotlight.
But of course, in looking at him, they were also looking at Grumpf’s wife. Now it should be said that even before being named king, Grumpf was quite rich and quite powerful. Money being no object, he got everything money could buy, including his goddess of a wife (his ninth).
There is probably some credence to the modern belief that she was the primary reason he ascended to the throne for if not for her, few, if any would have known his name.
And who was she you ask?
In her native country she went by the name Pheme.
In the official language of our once mighty kingdom she was called “Fame.”
Fame was, in many respects, the modern version of Helen of the Homeric classic. Beautiful as she was, everyone wanted a piece of Fame.
Even if just for fifteen minutes. I fan my blushing face even just thinking about what she could do to you and for you.
So yeah, Fame was where it was at.
Or so people thought. But most only saw the spotlight. Felt the warmth of the lights. The fire, the acclaim, the “oo-oo-oo, look at him,” or, alternatively, “her.” The looking, the gazing, the wanting. The desperate wanting.
The religion of our time.
Being married to Fame, Grumpf, of course, knew more about her than anyone. He knew that nightly when she unwrapped her hair to remove her mask—that glorious countenance of pure divine beauty—there was nothing to see in the mirror. Just like in that old movie The Invisible Man. Nothing to see, nothing of which to cheer, “oo-oo-oo, look at her” because there was nothing to see.
Yes, behind the warmth of the spotlight Grumpf knew the cold hard truth. And, not unlike the practice of insider trading, he took advantage of that special knowledge too.
Here’s the thing though. If the trolls and his other supporters had just read a little, they could have known what he knew. They could have known Fame was, essentially, empty. See, people had been writing about the goddess for millennia. All you needed to know about her right there in books and online.
While pertinent to my story, I realize this introduction is already quite lengthy, so I’ll just give a smattering of what has been written about Grumpf’s wife.
Excuse me, the Queen.
She is described as an evil thing who, while appearing light, is but heavy to carry. Hard to put down. She is called the Baneful One who arrives on wings and speaks a great many languages. She travelled swiftly and thrived on the moment. Born small and weak, she grew in both size and strength with every step she took until, her feet on the ground, her head reached the clouds.
Still, maybe not all that bad.
But here’s the other thing. While we today might call her Fame and think not about the meaning of the name, back in the good old days the ancients were quite well-aware of those kinds of things that we today might otherwise gloss over. See, Pheme, that is, Fame, means “rumor” and “gossip.”
Unlike most, Grumpf did know as much and predicated his entire candidacy on his supporters’ ignorance of this one simple linguistic fact. And thus, much as he learned from his wife, all Grumpf really had to do was drop one little crumb of gossip after another, say one little thing bearing little to no resemblance to reality.
Just drop it there, watch the trolls pick it up, and smile as it grew and grew and grew.
Watch it run and take a life of its own casting Grumpf’s rivals by the wayside and carrying him to heights unknown.
Which is really more of a metaphorical statement, for Grumpf lived in a tower in a city of towers where trees, like the so-called savages of old, were confined to reservations.
And this brings me to just one more thing.
So please, excuse me, I know it might seem like I’m rambling, but I promise it’s important to the story and I’ll get there quite soon.
So yeah, Grumpf lived in this great big tower in this city of great big towers, right? Living in such an environment was, in fact, a major catalyst for deciding to run for king. Because most of those who provided the foundation which made Grumpf’s candidacy possible in the first place did not read, they did not read the writing on the wall. And because they did not read the writing on the wall, water flooded much of the once great kingdom of ours, including the city of towers.
The great and faraway o
cean swallowed much of the western portion of a once immense land mass rendering mountains islands. Deserts and flatlands turned swampland. In looking down from the uppermost reaches of his tower, he would see people getting around on airboats the way they used to in places to the south.
“Believe me,” Grumpf said during one of his earliest appearances on the campaign trail, “we’re gonna drain this swamp and pave it over with good intentions. Great golden intentions. Huge intentions, the best intentions. I’m already speaking with great people, the best people. Heck, one of them lives in my very own attic in Grumpf Tower. Most of you have probably never heard of him. But, if you name me as your king, you will come to know him and love him. His name is Rumplewhiteskin and together we will make this kingdom great again.”
So yeah, Grumpf won the throne. How exactly he did so remains controversial even to this day. Some say he’d performed a coup; others insist it was his divine right. Whatever the case may be, there he sat atop his throne making Grumpf Tower the capital of his kingdom.
Songs they sang of Grumpf, some laudatory, others disparaging.
And such brings me finally, to my story for as it was, one winter’s day, my wife and I were, as we normally were, perched on the windowsill outside Grumpf’s throne room. We liked it there because it was warm. Warm because it, being gilded in gold from floor to ceiling, caught the sun’s rays. Trapped as it was, the light bounced from floor to ceiling and wall to wall thus producing a heat that emanated through the windows.
Now I should say that my wife can sometimes be quite prudish. Thus, she did not always like the lyrics to some of the songs they sang of Grumpf. That being said, she often fancied the tunes to which the words were set and often found herself humming.
So on this one particular afternoon, there we sat, trying to stay warm, while my wife hummed.
I myself don’t really care about the words themselves, so I’ll share them with you and while I can’t really describe the melody, I think maybe you’ll be able to figure it out on your own. So here goes, the lyrics to what is commonly known as “The Limerick of AGGA”:
12 Days of Christmas: A Christmas Collection Page 5
