‘Tiny!!!! Yo, Tiny!!!! Hello??!!! Can you hear me, you useless midget?!!’ Screams filled the throne room at an hour that was waaaaayyyyyyy too early to even be considered an hour, which is why it has been removed from existence and brought down the original clock from twenty-five hours to twenty-four.
A weird- looking, fifty-something-year-old nut job who simply goes by the name of King as he is obviously oh- so-important at least in his own eyes was the source of said screeching.
‘Tiny!!! For the love of every slug in France, answer me!!!!’
‘Hmm, sire, you do realise that Tiny can’t hear you, right?’ A frustrated looking servant spoke to the King in a “Please just kill me already” kinda tone.
The King stood up in anger and walked down from his throne, moving as close as he can to Perry before screaming in his ear ‘What do you mean he can’t hear me?!! Have I gone mute?! Can you hear me, Percy?! Can you!!!???’
‘It’s Perry, sire, for the last time, IT IS PERRY!’ he said as he jumped back rubbing his ear to stop the buzzing sound and pain.
‘No need to shout, Percy, you hurt my feelings, ya know, what makes you hurt your grandma in such a way, what?!’
‘Sire, since when have you become my grandma? I can’t do this anymore; it has been years, years! I can’t take another day of this, my God! How can I continue living like this?! You have been nothing but a pain in my ass! Sire, I give up, you have driven me to insanity, you have twisted my mind to the point of no return, you have broken me, destroyed me, my soul, my heart, my youth, I have given you everything and you wrecked me! I can’t take this anymore, I quit!’ Perry broke down in tears as he spoke.
‘Is this your attempt at breaking up with me? Because if that’s the case then the answer is no, anyway! Stop crying! We have work to do! Where is that freaking midget! Tiny!!!!!’
Wiping the tears away from his eyes, Perry had come to understand what he probably should have been aware of from the beginning: the King is simply retarded or, you know, for all of you sensitive souls out there, he simply has learning difficulties.
‘Well, sire, he can’t hear you as we are in the throne room and he is currently in the stables, how exactly would he hear you?! Why don’t you just use a pigeon?’
A spark lit up in the King’s eye, he reached for his pocket and pulled out a brown pigeon and quickly pushed the buttons on its stomach, ‘Tiny! How’s it going in this fine hour?! I need you in the throne room right away! We have important matters to discuss in regards to a war! So come up here, Percy is gonna be making us some breakfast and this time you won’t get the plate with cyanide on it, so don’t you say I am not a caring king!’
‘A war?! What have you done this time, you hyperactive idiot?’ His voice came blasting out of the pigeon as the King hung up and placed it back in to his pocket.
The King turned and walked back up the stairs which lead to his throne; he turned and sat down staring at the door in wait.
Several minutes have passed and a breathless tiny man in a suit of armour came busting in through the doors ‘Sire! What happened?! Who did you piss off this time?! Who must I kill? The army can barely function due to the last war you had begun over a freaking ice cream, how are we to fight a new enemy?!’ His tiny hands sent flailing all over the place as he spoke while trying to catch his breath.
‘Woooha ,chill ya pony, Tiny, no new war has started, and what do you mean pissed off this time?! I am loveable I will have you know! I don’t piss people off, tell him Percy!’
‘Aye, he clearly doesn’t piss anyone off…’ He said as he rolled his eyes.
In shock the Tiny general stared at the King in disbelief ‘Wait, so no war? Then why did you call me here to discuss a war?’
The King leaned forward in his throne, a serious look unfitting of his face was taking over and sent chills down the spine of our beloved midget ‘Remember the war we had a while back with Smartcity?’ He asked lacking his usual insanity.
‘Yes? How could I forget a war which had begun due to a dispute over an ice cream?’
‘Well, I would like for you to write a script about it, so that it will be kept for the ages! I would like for you to describe exactly what had happened during those months.’
‘Wait, a script? Why me? I am no writer; I have no idea how to write a script, why don’t you just ask one of the poets who live in cardboard boxes around town? Or you know, one of the many who have studied arts at university? I mean they would clearly have more of an artistic touch then me plus they are all starving and jobless so why not ask them?’
‘Because I want it to be you, I chose you, I, the King, and my word is the law! You will write a film script which portrays my brilliance and all of my achievements during the war! You will write it as accurately as possible and exactly as it had unfold, you will make no changes to the story as it must show my brilliance and grace at its best’
A random voice came screaming from the right; the head of a man seems to be attached to the wall in a way which resembled a hunting trophy.
‘Film?! The hell are you talking about?! Films should not exist yet! For the love of god we are located at like the 13th century or some crap! How the hell are we even talking about films?!’
Tiny quickly glanced at the source of the noise before turning back to face the king ‘I thought he was fired? Why is he still here? And sire! For the last time, you can’t keep people as trophies, my God what are we gonna do about you and this weird obsession you have?’
‘Oh just ignore him, I find him amusing that he talks nonsense all day about the internet not existing yet and bla, bla, bla, like that, anyway! Go now and write the best script known to man!’
A bell rings. ‘Ohhhh, breakfast is ready! Now go!’
Confused and frustrated, the general is left with no other choice but to agree.