In The Court Of The Jester
Back from delivering a message to the town over but not a peep from the town folk, where did everyone go? Stepping in the King’s court is now like stepping in the court of the Jester because there the King lies on the floor. My King is faced down and forced to bow in crimson. The King only bows to those who are equal or greater and understandably, the living is now considered greater than my King. The whole village was pillaged and no one made it out alive while I was gone. The peasants, nobles, and the royal family are all deceased. The throne was thrown down the steps and the babies were dealt like chickens as they slept. This Jester got the news delivered to him for once in the worst way possible, man I do feel like a fool. I was the one man show and now i’m the only man to show. In a manner of minutes I rose up the ranks and i’m now finally king but at what cost? I turn my back to that celebratory party. I was just a smear within the lowest rank. There was no expectations of becoming this respected with everyone. I put everything I had to end up where I was. I started as a simple minstrel that toured place to place but it wasn’t enough. I chose not to be a cast out that ended up being a beggar. Doing acrobats and juggling was still not enough. Juggling safe items like apples got stale after a week while the sharp knives juggled in the air got me the bare minimum. The bare minimum consisted of food and a place to sleep for some time, I stayed in town only if business is doing good. I had to work way harder than those naturals. Being blessed without a disability does hinder things, the only time where the disability was performance enhancing. The dwarves with the lute and the hunchback that’s struggling to speak ranked above me like the make-a-wish kids in line at the amusement parks. The naturals had their limits of course, they couldn’t appear and disappear quick enough. It took a fully functioning brain to tell the same story even better than the last. That discovery lead to me finally retiring bits like the fake wood sword, bladder filled with peas on a stick, or the one that involved farting, whistling, then jumping. The great memory of a mouse is what I have. My whole attire was handmade by me, different bright colors weekly is unlike the others. I ate a donkey for his ears and tail! I took the cowl off the neck of an ex-monk! I combed the comb off the rooster’s head! The jiggling bells used to he peas in harden leather, now it’s pure nickel! The amusement coming from my costume alone is what lead me to a higher salary. It doesn’t stop there, my craft was not crafty enough. My wittedness wasn’t quick enough despite my joke telling being my specialty. Improving and adapting to any audience was the leather strop to the sharpened knife. Fairly high up the ranks and valued with great privileges, i’m eyeing to be the King’s fool. Beyond the permanent residency at the royal court, there was freedom to grasp. In my shoes, in the court of the jester you feel like you can do no wrong with the jokes telling themselves but wrong can be done. There still is a line to be walked, a king’s fool is the only one that can say no wrong! Tell the story wrong or the King was the butt of the joke would lead to a hanging in a quarter of an hour after it happened. The last fool died in the battlefield while delivering the message, they shot the messenger. The king’s fool suffered consequences as a by product and I’m next in line! A respected profession is born when the King gets his fool. The jester is now perceived as a wiseman, it took intelligence to adopt the behaviors of an idiot and make it this far. The truth was presented in between the jokes like a sandwich. The outrageous gossip helped ease mental pressures during political affairs. The entertainment brought by the jester brought good fortune, lifted the spirits of any army. He’s just right outside the sphere of the royal family, has the King by the strings. Thoughtful insights talked crazy ideas down the ledge, saving the King from himself. The Jester didn’t forget about his past, sanctuary for the less fortunate and siding with the ordinary people when against oppression. The Jester didn’t forget about the past, now that’s all the bastard has. This village is at population of one and there is sorrow to go around but the root of it is a bit unknown. There is no one here to make laugh, my services is not needed at last. I worked so hard to feed the universal wish to be entertained and the need to laugh. I don’t care that i’m soaking in this financial ruin. I don’t care that there are no more people in power. I was loyal to the King and the ordinary people because it was a job. A job where I made people laugh but there’s no satisfaction when I’m not one of those people. Can’t cheer myself up or make myself ever laugh without an audience because you can’t praise work that is unfinished. A Jester can only pretend the world is funny and forever for so long, he may disappear as early as tomorrow. This is the biggest freedom one can have but i’m a nobody without an audience! Choked up in words, lost in thought, in the court of the Jester I sit distraught.