A Bruised Ego.
Scene setting : Greed Castle
Razorbackwriter: The fine scribbling of a quill upon parchment was the sound that came from a small desk that was covered in sacks of gold coins and jewels of the Prince’s adviser – Warner. A short statured man with a delicate comb over and wearing three pairs of spectacles; two on the top of his head and one perched at the end of his nose. He had been up half the night counting the latest repayment of a loan from one of the Prince’s more recent victims. Mammon could be very convincing about how to create more wealth, but it always ends up costing his victims way more than they had ever imagined. Warner muttered as he placed the quill back in the ink pot and started to stretch since he had been bent over and working tirelessly for hours on end. He was about to go and fetch a maid to bring him a pot of coffee, when the large double doors to the Main hall burst open and there was the Prince of Greed – looking as though he had gone ten rounds with a prize fighter. His glorious purple cape was missing and he had tears and burn marks upon his specially made Italian suit. Mammon’s hair which was normally quite wild was standing on end like he had stuck his finger in a light socket. His right shoulder hung lower than he left and he walked with a slight limp.
Warner slowly took off his glasses and squinted as he observed his Highness’s entrance into the room.
“Your Highness….what in the world happened to you?” the Adviser asked, almost afraid of the answer for he knew the Prince had a dreadful temper. The small man got up from his seat and came around the desk, looking the Prince up and down with a nervous expression. “Not like you to get into a fight at the bar.” Warner assumed that the Prince had bitten off more than he could chew as he knew the Prince enjoyed a drink at the town bar now and again.
The Prince’s face was fearsome to say the least. He held up one finger as though to silence Warner as he approached a large cabinet, stopping a metre or two from it. Mammon then roared and charged the cabinet with force with a loud popping sound being heard as he snapped his shoulder back into place. It was such a sickening sound that Warner flailed slightly. “Err…oh that’s bad.”
Mammon grit his teeth and then straightened up to full height, cracking his neck back into place and then trying to appear calm once more. After taking a long deep breath, the Prince began to explain exactly what happened.
“I never thought that the bookstore could be the newest fight club in town.”
“The bookstore? Sir, are you feeling okay?” Warner could not understand how the humble town’s book store could have the Prince coming home to his castle looking like he did. Mammon started to peel off his ruined jacket and tossed it upon one of the nearest velvet chairs. “I’ve had better days, Warner. First some skank at the bar refuses to serve me, calling it the end of her shift and walks out. THEN I happen to go into the bookstore, since I was bored out of my mind and I meet the most intriguing looking girl.”
Warner was now keenly interested in the Prince’s tale, and since he heard that the Prince still had yet to have a drink, he went to the drink’s cabinet and poured the Prince a glass of whiskey, which he brought back and handed to him, eager to hear more. Mammon took the crystal glass and took a sip, before continuing. “So, I just happen to introduce myself, and….then all of a sudden this…brick…shit house comes in and tries to blow the girl up. I mean….in a book store.”
The adviser took up a small chair and then continued to listen while the Prince was staring into space, remembering the incident as it played out in his head. “Then what happened, M’lord?” Warner asked, perched on the end of the chair and staring up at the Prince with great expectation.
“Well, normally I’d just let the girl get blow to smithereens. I mean, I didn’t know her from jack shit; but…I..STUPIDLY tried to tackle the freak and…he near rubbed my face into the floor. ME?! The Prince of Greed. Damn well busted my shoulder too.”
Warner gasped at the idea of the Prince being laid out by some behemoth. “Did you save the girl, M’lord?” The adviser now keen to know if the Prince’s gallant actions saved the day. This made the Prince angrier than Warner had ever seen him.
“NO! She…stopped the fight. Threw me across the room on my arse!”
At this, Warner burst out laughing. “She saved you?”
“SHUT UP!…JUST SHUT UP!” The Prince roared, as he felt a terrible twinge in his shoulder again. “Oww. Mark my words, Warner. She…and that baboon bottomed freak….are going to regret humiliating me!”
At this, the Prince grinned. It was a wicked and most mischievous looking expression you ever saw.
“Let’s just say….I have a lot that owe me a favor or two. Bahahahahaha!”