The King had gone mad with power.
All across the kingdom people lived in fear of his next dastardly decree. First it was the imprisonment of every third bus driver each month. Then he demanded that everybody’s sofas should be relinquished unto him. He even made his servants bring things to him. Yes, he did – pinch yourself because this is real life. Actually forcing another human being to wait on him hand and foot. It’s not like this is what they were paid or kidnapped to do.
But his life long journey of corruptness had finally brought him to his destination: Insanity!
He commissioned the service of every tailor and seamstress in the Kingdom – exchanging their labour for their life – and demanded T-shirts to be sent to every individual in the land that bore his resemblance, and a red circle in the corner to represent the poppy he ironed every year because he was so cheap to buy a new one. (Even in fantasy you can’t escape the horrors of war).
Accompanying the shirt was this note:
Dear Lowly Peasant Folk,
I sincerely hope that you enjoy the gift that I have had given you.
I made the order of 20,000 of these bad boys two days ago.
It’s amazing how persistent workers can be if you give them food;
children are remarkable creatures.
I also hope to find you wearing the shirt as it would be of great
pleasure to me. But please don’t feel that you have to wear the shirt
just to keep your King happy. I am an easy going man and understand
that individuality is important in society.
However, taking part is also something I stand by. So, if you do
find yourself not in the festive mind frame, your person is required
at the front gates where a white hot poker will be inserted
your rear end.
Wishing You All The Best,
Only one piece of photographic evidence remained from that wicked time and here it is. Proof that the King is not a man of his word, and that it wasn’t just the rebels that felt the burn.