The DIARY CONFESSIONS OF God’s SHRINK Or The GOD CHRONICLES, Second Entry

Entry II, is a doozy. This God never asked for directions. No wonder he wandered for a long as he did. My wife would have killed me and my children would have revolted. Hmmmm?

Are We There Yet?

---

We are called wizards, witches, warlocks, magicians, priests, gods, scientists -- and frauds. Our titles equate to the level of development of the society in which we exist. We are trained in languages, current, ancient, and forgotten. We study the sciences and arts. We are caretakers and we are shape shifters molded to fit the given environment. We are dedicated to progress. Well, most of us anyway.

The caveat we accept upon taking The Path, not known by the populations we serve, is that we must have a following, a group that is dedicated to us. Without support we disappear and perish. Ignore us and we go away. Abandon us and we die. We need followers as much, no, more than they need us. They can continue on as they are until their sun collapses supernovas or burns out.

In a modern world, the scientist/polymath is the highest and most coveted status. As such he or she is supported by the society as a whole. Unfortunately some worlds sow the seeds of their own destruction through ignorance and pride. Most worlds are generally better for it; understanding the power and progress inherent in the technology.

In the Lesser Worlds, we are witches, magicians, wizards, and at the base of the pyramid, we are gods and devils, omnipotent, all knowing and feared. In reality we just are, and that's all. However societies must begin somewhere. Organization is the key. Fear is the carrot and stick that works most every where getting the cart of civilization to move.

****

I'm the youngest of them all. There were so many they ran out of names for me. I was called "Him". I am "Him" to most everyone. And that, folks, is how I introduce myself: "I am Him." Names are nothing but mental place holders. No big deal, you could call me Tim for all I care.

They all picked on me. "Your powers are weak, your physics are flawed, you don't know anything. Go away. You're such a loser. We have better things to do then let you hang out with us. We have real work. Go find some bugs to impress."

Being the youngest I got the dregs. Everyone else has the good planets. There was nothing left for me by the time I reached the age where I was supposed to, "go out unto the universes and make one world my own". Yeah, right. Critical to my existence and survival or any of our kind's existence and concomitant power is the fact that if we don't succeed in gathering a flock (I liked that term, "flock". No one else was using it. The "flock" idea and its defined implications came to me through an incident), We die! There are no second chances; no reappearing later. This is not a dress rehearsal existing in a god-eat-god universe. I needed to convince a group of people -- a few people -- two would do as a start! -- of my scientific/magical/wizardry skills. Hire Me! I will create for food.

What I was to discover over time was simple. I had to present a convincing reason for anyone to buy into my story and existence. Just being doesn't sell.

In the beginning...

Out of "kindness, I was given a shot. The world I was handed operated at a cultural level that was, to put it nicely, retarded. Even here the "best spots" were taken. Golden Calves, Bulls, Giants, Swans, and all manner of mental constructs "roamed" this planet of semi-civilized warlike apes.

To Expand:

One's career is one's pride. I don't care if one is a scientist, witch, or a god; one has to have a job in order to feel worthwhile. Without work -- and an appreciative audience -- our kind perishes, disappears, ceases to have ever been. What's worse, we're not even missed. There were so many others roaming the planets vying for supremacy, a totem, an award or a niche at a minimum.

I needed to eat, to work, make a living, and no one wanted duck decoys. I carved these for relaxation and possible profit. I couldn't even give them away. A duck god did not present a very strong picture either. I was a lousy carpenter too. That was something else I needed to work on later.

I hunted around, seeking, but no takers. All I could do was to keep knocking on door after door, or, in this case, scratching at tent flap after tent flap. What a way to gather a "flock". I displayed my skills all over this miserable little planet. I kept getting any one or more of the following rejections, "We've seen that. Nah, our guy does it better. We've taken up with someone else. No, not interested, maybe next solstice." Staff into snake and back again, big whoop. If it was possible to slam a tent flap, some of the people I tried to win over would have slammed their tents in my face. Sometimes I had to duck the occasionally thrown rotten fruit -- or worse. This went on for more mortal lifetimes than I cared to count.

The rejection really got to me. After a while, dispirited and wondering what was to become of me -- all that time without followers had drained me almost dry -- I spied this loner in a desert wasteland (don't ask which desert wasteland it was -- they all look alike). He was a miserable specimen, tending a bunch of ratty sheep. Smelled like them too. It appeared that personal hygiene was not a big priority out there.

Thinking that I hadn't tried any techie stuff in a while, I figured why not have some fun? Not nice, but what the hell, things were so bad it.... I dug my particle beamer out of a pocket dimension, torched a bush (too bad -- it was the only thing around that looked like it was thriving), and spoke to him in a booming, amplified voice. Old school, not likely to impress anybody with two camels to rub together.

He fell down trembling like fire of any kind was a miracle.

Whoooo, I am good, I thought. Or maybe sheep-boy is Not Too Bright... Not Too Bright seemed like as appropriate a nickname as any for the guy, so I mentally labeled him NTB for short.

Finally, a potential follower! "What is your name?" I asked him, cranking the subsonics until the ground vibrates.

He told me, slobbering out a string of syllables that sounded like he was working up enough spit to put out the fire. Too glottal for me, linguist or not, so I called him Mike. It was easier on my ears.

I discovered he was in this wasteland, tending his sheep (this is where the flock idea begins to cross my mind) and hiding out from one of the biggies back in The City. Nice place. Expensive. Open all hours and you could get anything you wanted -- for a price. I knew the Big Guy he was talking about -- one of my Kind, from a few classes before my time. What a bully, and as usual picking on this regular sort of guy. He always was a bit of a scheiss kopf.

"Listen Mike," I said, "I know the guy who's busting your chops"

Mike looked confused. "Chops? What are chops?"

"Giving you a hard time, making your life miserable, that sort of thing"

"Yes, oh Great One!"

'Oh Great One'? I thought, Where has this guy been hiding all these centuries? With my luck, he's brain-addled from too much sun, and won't be any use in recruiting more followers. 'Oh Great One'... Still, he was the best thing I'd found since They dropped me on this planet. I was feeling better than I had in decades, soaking up his unsophisticated -- extremely unsophisticated -- awe.

After a decent amount of conversation -- and I had to keep telling him to get his face out of the dirt -- I presented this proposition, "Listen, tell you what. You have any friends? How about family? You want to get out of this dump? Exit this place? You want to move to a better zip code?"

All he picked up on is, "Code? What code? A secret ...."

"No! I mean -- do you want a better place to live?" I really had to match my vocabulary to local conditions if I wanted to get anywhere.

"Yes, Oh Great One!"

'Great One', I thought. I could get used to this.

To Mike, I said, "I have an idea. This is going to take some time. First, personal hygiene. You smell like your sheep. You have to clean up your act if you want to make something of yourself. Get your friends and family together. Please, for god's sake clean up. Get fresh clothes and meet me at that mountain."

I pointed to a large mountain close enough so as to keep him from being noticed by those idiots back in The City.

"I'll be back. I want to meet you on the top. There's a nice plateau. Just wait for me there. It gets foggy and damp, so bring warm clothes and firewood"

"Yes, Oh Great One. But why --?"

"Do it," I boomed, loud enough that the burning bush collapsed into a pile of smoldering embers. I don't know who bleated louder, Mike or his sheep.

****

I went back to The City to deal with the Big Guy, my older -- cousin. He had a group working under him. They formed a 'Magic Collective'. They denied the concept of peoples or nations to expand their strength -- accepting (or drafting) adherents regardless of race or former religion, and downplaying the importance of any relationship except membership in their group. While internally organized, it was an elite-based hodge-podge. What a bunch of wankers. Maybe they were afraid of what an organized people could accomplish? He and his buddies thought they owned the whole place (apparently They never mentioned to Him that I was being assigned to the same planet). What a limited perspective. This organizational stuff had me thinking... but first, I had a task to accomplish.

After attempting to convince Him to back off Mike and his friends, pleading his case to no effect, I went toe to toe with him and all of his. Me against them. He was good, but he hadn't gone to the upgrade classes in technology, arts and humanities. I had tech and techniques He'd never even heard of, so despite the odds, I figured I could put him away. It would be temporary at best, and it would take some work: see your snake and raise you a swarm, on and on. I was pissed and getting hungry -- the charge I'd received from Mike's boneheaded adulation was running dry. I wanted to get this over.

I played to his ego. Hubris usually gets His type -- but not this time. So I hit him with a quantum singularity that squirted him through to another universe and pureed his followers as they fell past its event horizon. Nasty. Didn't know I had it in me -- hunger and fatigue apparently brought out my mean side.

On my way to The Mountain:

I wondered if the Big Guy sent Mike out here so he and his ilk wouldn't wreck anything too decent. And me? Why me? Why here? Ho hum, make do with what's at hand. Work with the clay you've been given, as they said in ceramics class. One thing I learned out of all of this, be nice only once. If they don't listen to reason, fuck them. Let them have it. This is my new rule for dealing with like beings. However, regarding The Monkey Boys, you have to give a little. At this point in their evolution they head up the NTB department.

****

Back to Mike:

Mike was on the mountain top, as ordered. He was waiting for me, looking good, clean, tall and impressive. I appeared in a cloud and lots of smoke. If I was going to work at bringing these people up, I might as well have some fun too. I could see he wasn't sure of the situation. Imagine what his friends and family thought. I spent some time with him, hours, days, weeks. I don't keep track of that stuff. It is not of my concern. I filled him in on the situation. "Here's the deal. I need you and you really need me to survive in this place." I gave him a demonstration of some of my "real powers". Remembering too that I was dealing with primitive types here and quantum physics was beyond their ken, I tried to explain the universe in the simplest terms. I gave him a foundation, a beginning, from which to build. I prayed that it sank in with a broader weltanschauung and got those wheels in his head turning pointed toward those larger and greater things. Working through that was another long complicated effort. We must have been up there for better than a month.

It was physics and philosophy for sheep herders, intro class. (I do not want to explain all this again, please! Once was enough.) Maybe just pushing one leader out and taking His place, while simply substituting new names I liked for the old ones would be a whole lot easier. I would be able to relax and exist in a style to which I would have liked to become accustomed. I would think about that depending upon this adventure. It sure would make my business easier and more secure.

"Now back to realpolitik," I told myself and Mike. "I can supply you with protection. No one will bother you too much when I'm around. You, your family and friends and any that want to join our club, have to act like I'm It, the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega..."

Mike's eyes have that frightened-rodent look again, so I finish with, "To believe in Me would be better, but acting the part will do. Most people being sheep..."

He gave me a funny look and smiled as if he understood. If I hadn't seen exactly the same look on the face of a wolf cub, I would have felt confident that I was getting through to him.

"To reiterate, Mike, they must act like I am the Big Guy, your chief, wizard, boss..."

"Club?" Mike gargled. "Chief-Wizard-Boss?"

"Let's try this again."

"Club is what you would sort of call tribe except you gotta pay to get in. Give a little skin. You know what I mean?"

No answer. Only later I find out he took this literally.

"The Chief, the Wizard, Boss bit -- okay, you choose My name. Make it simple and easy to remember. You have free will. Pick a title which reflects, let's say, great reverence to Me. How's that?"

"'God'? Will that be okay?"

I was floored.

"WHAT? You want me to be your god?" (He was nuts! I had been hoping for something else, not sure what, but anything other than that. That's the bottom of the heap -- lots of obligations, not much reward.)

"If not 'God', then what should we call You?"

I sensed that Mike was taking a stronger stance here. This was good.

"'God' is a bit strong...but...if you think it will work....I am....Just--" Mike interrupted before I could get the 'Him' or the rest of the idea out.

"A God with a hidden name," Mike murmured.

It's never good when a follower gets too quiet like that.

"A just God, greater than any other!"

"Mike, you're quick!" I was beginning to like this guy more and more -- although the implications of that 'just' label could be tricky. "Okay, I am..."

"I Am," Mike says it over and over again, jumping up and down. "Yes, we'll call you I Am. No one will ever know your name. By that very reason alone You, I Am, will be protected and so will we through your miracles. All they will be able to say is "He Is."

"Right! I like it" This was better than anything I could have dreamed up.

Back to reality.

"Mike, let's move on. We need an org chart, rules, procedures, CMMI..."

"Please explain," Mike said. "'Org chart', 'CMMI'?"

"Laws," I said. "You understand 'laws'?"

"Yes, oh I Am, sure."

"Okay, this stuff has got to be written in stone, so no screwing around with what I say."

"Oh great one, I am not a stone carver."

"'Written in stone' is just an expression," I said, but Mike gives me the wolf-cub look again, so I said, "I'll do it myself."

I got him to describe their writing system in detail. Then I pulled a laser out of the air and burned the guidelines into a slab of rock. Then I did it again. And again. It took me a while and a ton of rocks to get the grammar correct along with the feeling I wanted to convey. Here were the basics from Positive Social Movement 101 in this his own language. I cut it into two easy-to-carry pieces -- easy for somebody used to hard labor, anyway.

"Mike, I forgot to mention it, when I was gone for that little while I scouted out some great real estate, nice river, good hunting, game, ducks. By the way, I carve duck decoys for relaxation. Want one?"

"Gladly," he said. "We'll dump the golden calf. It's too heavy anyway. We'll melt it down and distribute the gold among the tribe. We'll share the wealth to show we have some backing. This will be a positive incentive for people to join up. Money talks."

Mike had come a long way from kissing the ground because a shrub caught fire in front of him...

"But...not to be too rude," he said, "you mentioned -- something about land?"

"Right, the land: good views, and cheap, just for the taking. Did I mention cheap? You have warriors, yes? They might be needed to convince non-believers... Be prepared. Remember, political power grows from the point of a spear." Oh, I liked those lines, too. I should have added those to the stone tablets. Maybe in the Creator's Cut special edition.

"Yes," Mike said, "Many and brave. It's in their heritage."

"Many and brave what?"

"Warriors. You asked."

"Right, just checking," I said. It never hurt to be sure with Mike -- he could misinterpret the simplest things. "I will lend a hand in the armament arena if needed. You just follow my directions to the letter -- Got It?" This last part I said with Major Amplification to make sure Mike understood that it was an Important Point.

"You think there's a market for the duck decoys?" I asked. "I'd like to unload them. They are too nice for kindling and they don't go with nomadic tent interiors."

"Yes to both and all You say. You are The Great One. I think we can find a few buyers." Then the confused-puppy look returned. "I'm confused by one of Your Sacred Words, I Am -- armament?"

"Weapons, magic, spells, fire... You know."

"Yes, very well as a matter of fact. We have bows, arrows, spears, slings..."

"A good start," I said. Then I said, calmly and gently:

"Go down the mountain get a consensus so we can move as a cohesive unit with a purpose. It will make you stronger. Trust Me. I'll give you the directions. In fact I will lead you out of this wilderness."

"'Con-senseless?"

"Consensus. Agreement. Make them agree, however you want to do it. Just Do It!" Another good line. I wished I'd left more room on Mike's stone tablets -- or had wasted less material getting the wording right.

****

All in all, things were looking better. Even though the former Big Guy had found his way back from the other universe, and gathered a new Collective, I was prepared. I had a following, a flock. Survival was going to be a challenge, even so. It was likely that He had detoured Home and updated his tech, so this time, I might be the one using outdated weapons. If I made it, maybe I would get a promotion in the future. I could only hope and pray.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mike in a frenzy. "What if we're attacked?"

"You read my mind! But I will take care of it, not to worry. Trust Me. I'll supply the material and technology."

"The what?"

"Miracles, magic, armaments."

"Yes, magic, armaments, miracles, that I understand."

I felt I had to go over the importance of our organizational principles once more.

"Remember the rocks We wrote on? Those are my 10 Steps For Success. No one else has them. You listen and follow what I say, period. No ifs, ands, or buts. These rules will keep you safe from those other idiots for an eternity." Hyperbole could be effective and this was one time it was needed.

"An eternity?"

"Yes Mike, an eternity. Now let's get moving before we're boxed in and no amount of 'Magic' will save our butts."

"What?"

"Let's go, everyone, camels, sheep, tents up, move out!"

****

This was going to work I could feel it. If we got the business plan vertically and horizontally organized with a purpose that can be understood, the others in The City will be toast in the long run. They are so disorganized compared to my people.

"They thought my MBA minor was a waste of time," I muttered. "Well, I don't think so. 'Just study science,' They said. 'That's all You'll need.....if You can master it.'

"We'll see Who masters Whom."

****

"Hey Mike, you think that burning bush thing will work with all the folk down there?"

"No," he said. "That was great, but with a crowd that size, it would have to be more like a burning forest..."

"A little difficult in a scrub desert," I said. "Okay... let's try some lightning, thunder and some crustal movement and a few minor river flow changes."

A little fiddling with charged-particle projectors and gravity wave manipulators, and things outside our perimeter got really interesting.

"How's that?"

"You have their complete attention," Mike said, his eyes very wide. It had been a while since I put on a real show. "Now what?"

"Let's take a look at the real estate."

****

For what seems like years:

"Oh Great One, we've been at this for a long time. And, ah ...we seem to be...lost?"

"You believe that I Am lost? I Am supposed to ask directions? How would that look? Anyway, I have this map and....

Oh damn, it's for the wrong planet.

"And?"

"Listen between you and me, no mention of this. Just tell them the whole wandering-in-the-desert thing was a test. A really long test. The place I told you about is just over those mountains. I'll give you a hand if the squatters won't move."

****

"All of you, Trust Me. This is going to be a long term relationship for all of us. If we stick together, no problems. Just follow my Ten Steps. It's carved in stone, get it? Now let's go."

****

And my family thought I would amount to Nothing.

"You're doing this alone? No help?"

"You're going to fall on Your face."

"Everyone was right. You are an idiot!"

Ha, fooled them!

Almost everything worked out fine. There's only one thing left to do.

"So, you wanna buy-a-duck decoy? It's a fire sale and we're moving to a new and better location"

The DIARY CONFESSIONS OF God’s SHRINK Or The GOD CHRONICLES, First Entry

I am the shrink to the Gods, yes those GODS. Well five or six of them. Could you imagine the whole pantheon as clients? It’s good money. They pay in gold and dispensations. But really now, five gods as clients are about the limit my sanity clause in my contract allows me. There is no sanity clause you say? You must believe, trust me.

Anyway, it’s my job to listen to their stories. I secretly transcribed them. You think they would be so frank if I told them I was recording their most intimate thoughts? I save them for analysis at a later date of my choosing. It takes a bit of event-space to separate their story from the god in ones very presence.

Through this action, I allow them to unburden their souls, if you will allow me to use that term, with their stories so they can return to the tasks to which they as Gods have self ordained upon themselves. You know even shrinks need a shrink, and so do the Gods, what with all this creating and destroying and lifting up and damning. It wears on ones soul.

By-the-way, You ever wonder what happens to the last shrink in that shrink-for-a-shrink line up? He or she probably goes insane. I mean who you going to tell if you’re the last one? Oh well.

Each story is unique to each god though you will find a common thread running through most of the stories. In fact some of the stories dove tail. One would almost suspect they were one and the same entity.

I think that the nature of the job only allows for so much diversity in a reality and universe like ours that there must be some overlap and some similarity in cause and effect.

With that introduction, I will relate my first story as was told to me by Him or Her. In case you didn’t get it, the gods are not all male.

THE DARK kNIGHT Or A LOVE STORY*, Pt. II

Well, not any more.

The princess looked around. “This is a big mess.  I know some good people with the right skills I can enlist to straighten this chaos out. Not a problem. They owe me big time anyway.” she said to the Dragon.

He had a good idea what debts she was referring to but thought it wiser to remain silent. Besides he was rather content. He had not had so much fun in a long time. A slight burp erupted from his mouth and some smoke spiraled up from his nostrils. The combined scent had the faint aroma of seared flesh.

The princess attired in all her regal travel outfit stood on a balcony. Dragon was behind her occasionally burping.  Below her were the former wizard-kings wage-slave workers. She informed the huddled masses below the castle, in a voice of strength yet in a caring tone,“Don’t cry for me.” He burped louder this time. She turned to the dragon and hissed, “stop that.” And back to the growing crowd below, “The dragon is my friend.

I have made a change in the governing authority. It once upon a time existed. Now it doesn’t. I assure you things will improve for all of  you in a short while. I have taken care of that.”

They looked up never believing this would happen, ever. The fact that they were looking up instead of cowering was new. They were not sure how to behave.

Her like minded and similarly skilled friends, who had been summoned, arrived almost immediately. The situation was explained in detail. They got right to work setting up new a new fair government and industrial base.

Some time later when things had been put in some semblance of order, she addressed the now more relaxed citizens. “My associates are fixing the mess the former, the late, evil Wizard King royally created. Enjoy your new found freedoms. I will be leaving for my home where they are sure to be worried for my safety and health. I believe things are much better.  I will return some day.” She blew them all a kiss.

Cheers where heard for miles and tears flowed like rivers as she left the land with her dragon.

****

As the sun shone through the clouds for the first time in ages, people all over began to breathe better and better. The crops grew and minds began to clear.

The princess had discovered the source of the problems, achieved her quest, and returned home. The king wanted her to marry but she said, “I achieved the goal of the quest. I can and will do as I please.”

“And, I’m not finished.  Not… just…yet. And yes Daddy I will marry,” she said to the king.

“What mischief are you up to now?” he knew something was up. Something was always up with this girl.

“Oh, nothing too weird papa.  Trust me,” she said coyly.

‘Too weird’ was all he heard. “Sweetheart…” he began.

The king was wrapped around her finger.

“Shhhhh ,”she said putting her fingers to her mouth in the please be quiet sign we all know. “Daddy, now please.”

“Like I said, I like them big and strong. They don’t have to be all that smart.”

“I pick him.”

She looked at the dragon. She always liked what she saw. With a magical incantation she turned herself into a dragonette.

Off they flew. They lived happily ever after too.

The End

_______________________________________________________________

All characters are a total fabrication of my mind. Any resemblance to any country, political entity, any persons living, dead, or fabricated by other minds is a coincidence and unintended.

*Though I have to tip my hat to Babette Cole and her writing which in a very long drawn out way and through time, inspired this story.  RT

THE DARK kNIGHT Or A LOVE STORY*, Pt. I

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
A princess  and her quest free her land from a dangerous curse and an idiotic promise. An evil warlike wizard, a peasant, a dragon and a knight .

_____________________________

Once upon a time, in a constantly gray overcast, mushy, musty, mustard painted land, there lived a diminutive darkly armored knight. For years and years the land he loved had been visited by repeated invisible destructions creating horrors that can’t be described in polite company.  These invisible, indefinable ethers may have caused the defects in the reasoning abilities among the population. That was the outstanding human characteristic within this plot of socially cultivated earth. To a lesser degree than most of the population, the knight too, was a bit brain addled. And for some strange reason the royal household was unaffected.

This land’s king, distraught as he was, had no clues what to do. The technology that may have ameliorated the situation was not available to him. Finally, one day, in total frustration and without consultation, the king of this foul waste land made a proclamation: “I, the King of this land, I do hereby proclaim and promise and offer my daughter up in marriage”, as if she was a piece of reclaimed property, “to any one who will rid our land of this curse, this plague on our house.”

Pictures of her majesty, like wanted posters in a small town and mushrooms in a swamp, sprang up all over the land. She was a beauty. She may have been known to many but now she was known to all.

The knight, sheathed in a dark armor made of a metal never before seen, and impenetrable to the weapons of the time, accepted the challenge. He was brave in heart and small of mind. He rode up to the castle. In the formal language of the time declared, “I hereby announce, pledge, and promise, giving my word and honor, as a knight, I will take the quest and not return until I am successful.” All the while he was making his pledge he was looking at the princess. She smiled a small polite smile and waved the royal wave. Then she turned aside, and in an act unseen but to her pet dragon, rolled her eyes and stuck her fingers partially in he mouth as if to indicate she wanted to gag. 

But the knight was greatly inspired by that slight smile and the delicate curve of her wrist. In his mind the future was bright; the danger was but a dim concern, so brave of heart was he.

The knight withdrew from the castle armed and provided for by the king and country. A poor, quickly commissioned copy of a painting of the lovely princess was pasted to his left arm on his dark armored suit. He sighed a lost lover’s sigh every time he looked at it, which was most of the time. The Knight inadvertently kept pulling harder on the left reins and wound up riding in circles.

Eventually, realizing the origins of his repetitious situation, he pasted the picture to the horses head. He reoriented himself and trotted off to the hinterlands in search of the causes of the plagues upon his land, their cure and in the back of his mind, the memory of his future bride.

The princess witnessed this, pointed it out to her dragon and said, “My future husband? May the gods help me.”

The dragon burped.

The Dark Knight assumed that a solution would become obvious.  The direction he chose arbitrarily. To his horse and back at the castle and declared in a voice that belied his physical stature, “I will free our land from this curse and marry the beautiful princess.  I’m sure the gods will direct me for I am true of heart and brave. I have been given this armor for just purposes. I will prevail.”

The horse just wanted to go back home.

The princess rolled her eyes toward the heavens and got a drink. “Gott im Himmel,” She said and had another one.

Some months later, the horse returned to the castle minus its rider. It was hungry but otherwise unharmed. And what of The DARK KnIGHT?  He died as did countless other armored fools. But they’re a story for another time.

The princess was unaffected by the curse for reasons that will be uncovered at a later point in the story. She was not a piece of meat and was disgusted at being put up for auction. She was tired of smiling at the daily increasing long line of idiots, male and female alike who thought they could accomplish what no one else had. For so many, the idea of her hand, a royal position and access to other parts of her beautiful body were causes enough to warrant these attempts.

As she was smiling to another bunch of losers, she recalled The Dark Knight. He was kind of cute and not quite as messed up in the mental processing capacity department as the others. She pitied him. He might have been some fun, for a while.

Finally after enough of this nonsense the Princess decided to do something. She spoke to her pet dragon, a supposed guardian of virgins, of which she most certainly was not. Her list of lovers was about as long as the list of dead suitors. Come to think about it, many of the names dovetailed.

The dragon, only itsy bitsy slightly tipsy and affected by the curse, was not as mindless as the rest either. However, and this is a big however, he forgot his true purpose in life. The Princess appreciated that fact and never brought the subject up.

She said, “Dragon, honey, you big hunk of walking, talking, flying armor, we will go and seek the reason for our lands demise and discover an antidote, spell or some such solution. If we have dragons that speak,” pointing to him, “why not witches or wizards that can help to brew antidotes and cure what ails us?”

“Sounds about right,” he said and burped again. She generally made sense when all about them were losing their heads figuratively and sometimes literally. She’s a piece of work he thought. I like working for her, no pretenses. But what an appetite. She’s insatiable.

She prepared her travel arrangement, her baggage and informed the King of her plans.

“You’ll die like the others, I will not have it,” he declared. “You’re my only daughter, my only child.”

“Daddy!” she said in a certain tone she used with him when it was verbal combat time, all the while staring straight into his eyes.

 “Don’t look at me like that,” he said backing up.

“Oh daddy, I have dragon to protect me. None of the others had a dragon. Pleeese, you know I can do it. Daddy, come on. You believe in me.” She batted her lashes knowing she had her father wrapped around her finger.

“You have my blessing.” The king said with tears in his eyes. Saying no was naught but impossible. It was if she cast a spell on him. Ask any father of a strong willed and smart daughter.

 And off they flew. Well, not right away.

The dragon initially crashed a few times until he remembered how to fly straight. It had been a while. Off they went, again. This time things went right. They made a great distance and speed even flying into the wind.

Flying in this direction, she assumed would bring her to the source of the problems. If the plague came from the wind then the source had to be up wind. They flew and flew and flew landing in different towns and villages. It was depressing and inspiring at the same time.

Each area was worse off than the next. She was excited. She was getting closer to the source. She knew it. The dragon just followed directions. It was easier than thinking. Because, if he thought about it in any depth, and occasionally the tiniest idea entered his brain, he would have known this princess was nuts attempting to accomplish what none had, and dumped her right then and there.

Why would he, a fine upstanding dragon, not be able to find employment with any good King and Queen with daughters to protect? And though he kept forgetting his true role as protector, why not dump this wacko chick he had on his back and get a decent day job, or in the case of teenagers, a night job?

Why did he remain  when others would have departed you may ask?

She was fun, she’s cute and smart. And he was used to her ways. I’ll just see what happens, he thought to himself.

Eventually, they arrived a location where a primitive industrial complex was making war machines for a great wizard king of the known world. His land was upwind and therefore not affected from the toxic byproducts his greed and desires. The smoke and effluent poured out of the industrial complexes and infected everyone else.

All land immediately downwind of the locations were barren. The further away from this hell hole, the bit of environmental recovery that there was to be discovered,  was warped and mutated.

Just beyond the castle walls were the rotting carcasses of knights and various opportunists who had attempted to save the lands, then by their proven success and valor, win her hand and a few other parts in marriage. She guessed their ultimate goals were not necessarily as high minded as many surely pretended.

She thought she recognized the battered remains of one armored corpse.

“Well, it appears as if some made it this far. Poor boys and girls,” she said to her dragon shaking her head.

He looked down, as they circled around  and viewed the remains that lay about and then up at her.  “Do you really want to go on?” he inquired.

She nodded to the affirmative looking for something to wrap around her face.

“What a stench. It’s like the New Jersey Turnpike by the refineries, living next to slaughter houses and chicken farms in the summer all rammed up my nose at once.” She gagged.

“Gaaaagyesss,” and puked.

She looked all over and wondered who and why anyone would commit such horror. Then she remembered she was on Earth. “Ah yes, people,” she sighed and puked again.

“I have to find the shithead who is doing this and why,” she declared to the dragon. “Let’s land here.”

Wings spread wide, the dragon glided in, flared, and landed with a gentle plop.

Dismounting, she saw a passer-by and called out to him, “You, you the one with all the sores, may I have a few words with you?”

The youth who had been in his own little warped mental world was scared witless. First, the sight of a dragon did not reduce the fear any normal human would have at such and encounter. And second, then this beauty, with a dragon no less, wanted to speak to him, a lowly peasant? “Are you a witch?  Do you wish me harm?” he asked trembling, falling to the ground, burying his face in the dirt, and pissing in his pants.

“Get up, I wish you no harm. All I want to know is who is responsible for all this mess?” She spread her arms wide and pointed to the death and devastation.

“Please, My lady,” he said as he stared constantly from her to the dragon and back again. “Please do not speak ill of our all knowing Wizard King, his Greatness. He will know if I speak in such a manner and punish me.”

“All knowing Wizard King? I Never heard of such a being. He’s either a fraud or is able manipulate a few controlling spells. Though he seems to have an engineering knowledge.”

“Yes he is great and his war machine conquers all that stand in his way. He allows us to live.” He spokes this with pride.

“It’s not funny, how the victims adopt the chauvinistic pride of their keeper,” she whispered to the dragon. He nodded in agreement.

Turning back to face the peasant she pointed out the obvious, “Live? Just barely, look at you. Look at all this mess.”

“May I leave, please I have tasks and they must be completed or I will die,” he cried. “I should not be speaking to you. Oh please, I beg you.”

“Go, go, yes I mean you no harm,” she declared. “All a bunch of sheep,” she said to no one.

The dragon thought a few sheep might be a good idea for a bite to eat. “You mind if I get a few to munch on?”

”Yeah, go ahead. Just cook mine well. Make sure they’re upland from this disaster.”

The princess knew from human affairs, and she had quite a few of them, that no amount of reasoning would work on someone with so much pride as this Wizard King. Her sub quest was to discover a way to stop this insanity.

After a bit, the dragon returned with dinner prepared. 

“How you do that I’ll never understand.” She decided long ago not to question. He was a good chef and hunter to boot. Don’t look a gift dragon in the mouth was her motto.

“Do what,” he inquired?

“Nothing, thanks for the dinner,” she said picking her teeth.

“But what to do? What to do?” She muttered pointing to the distressed environment.

The dragon looked at her and inquired, “Why do anything? What’s the point? Everyone is not right in the head and you want to fix it?”

“Yes I do, because I live here. If I do it, I won’t have to put up with any idiot for a husband that comes along and does what I can most certainly accomplish. That’s why.”

“Okay that makes sense to me. But no one else has been successful. So what’s your plan?”

The princess was a knock out beauty. That fact was not lost on her. She always packed for any affair. “I just happened to notice a proclamation about a ball being held at this Wizard King’s palace this evening.”

“Dragon I have to freshen up. There is a warm spring over here. I will bathe and dress for the ball. Maybe I can influence this wizard creep to stop making his war machine and quit poisoning my home land.”

“You and what army?” the dragon mumbled.

“I heard that,” she yelled back. “I have a backup plan. Would you bring me a towel?”

“I’ll bet you do,” he hollered back. “What a piece of work she is,” He mumbled. He thought about that for a while.

That evening she arrived at The Ball. She was a show stopper. The wizard left the women he was with. He was enchanted by this new unannounced beauty. She had charm, wit and a certain je ne sais quoi.

He knew he would score. Who could not be charmed by his power, his humor, Himself?

The princess went through her mental check list: Got beauty, check; got brains, check; got a dragon parked just out of sight, check.  A great, dangerous combination, she thought. She turned to the wizard king smiling in and ever so ‘come hither’ look.

 He propositioned her.

She hesitated, and stalled, and said no, and smiled for effect.

He turned the level of charm up with some magic incantations.

She accepted as was her wont. She allowed him to feel in charge.

That evening when the bedroom games had been completed, though much too soon for her complete satisfaction she coyly smiled.  She didn’t let on.

The wizard king, lying back relaxed, was smoking a cigar blowing smoke rings.  He was proud of his performance, as was his wont.

She leaned forward toward him, her head cupped by her long slender fingers and purred, “Hey big boy. What’s with the weapons and all that? There is no one in the world that is a threat to you. What’s the big deal?”

“Don’t know. Just wanted to and because I can. Why?”

“You’re killing all my people with that stuff.”

“Really? No one ever mentioned that to me. But why should even I care? Effluent flows down hill and I’m up wind and upland. You can move in with me forget that hole in the wall you came from.” And he blew another smoke ring.

“Who cares about the poor anyway They’re just fodder and funds for the machine. They reproduce like rabbits. I always have enough to accomplish,” and he stressed, “my desires,” while staring at her.

She smiled and said in a growling sexy voice, “Yes that’s true. Come here and give me a kiss. I like them big  I like them strong. And and most of all, I like them politically powerful.”

Pride and lust being what they are, he gave it no other thought. He rolled over into her waiting arms, kissed her and instantly turned into a warty frog.

Surprise!

The princess was also a very powerful sorceress. And that was something she never ever let on.

“Oh Dragon, honey, sweetie,” she beckoned with an added whistle. Dragon was the only one who knew her secrets, all of them.

He flew into the bedroom looking around. “Yes, you called?”

“Here, a treat for you.” She threw the frog at the dragon who swallowed it down.

“Nice appetizer. What’s for dinner?”

“Any and all of the other guests.” She growled pointing to the door. This was in a tone  ever heard.  “Go at it,” she commanded again as if he didn’t hear her the first time.

He did much to his delight.

She washed up in a leisurely fashion, got dressed, and waited for dragon to finish with his fun and games. She heard roaring and screams and crunching of all sorts and manner. She smiled. “Being a princesses witch is so nice,” she said to herself.

Too soon she was bored while she was waiting for the machinery of that state to be shut down. The ruling elite had been dissolved in a manner of speaking.  So to bide the time, she did her nails in a deep red. When she was finished she looked up and around. The relative silence was deafening. “Dragon must be finished with his little games. Good timing. I was going to have to go out there and assist. What a bother that would have been.”

The people throughout the land stopped in their tracks. Never before had this occurred. Work, work, work, scramble, scramble, eat, pay taxes and die. That was their lot in life.

There was no smoke billowing from factories, no activity coming from the castle, and no screams, nothing.