Saga Of The European King

It had been almost a century since the Capital City Of Europe had been attacked by an army. They had defenses, and Commander Flightfeather’s garrison consisted of two hundred and fifty thousand men, but they were unprepared for attack, and Flightfeather himself had been knocked out by a flying brick when Terrorthaw had fired all of his guns at the Devil. The King realized this, and knew that he didn’t have enough time to rally his troops before the gypsies breached the walls of the city. He needed to give his army time to get ready, or else their superior numbers would mean nothing. The gypsies would have inflicted tremendous damage and he would have failed Europe. He would never fail Europe. He would not allow it. His father would not allow it.

Though he was weak from his wounds, and had foul gypsy-dung running through his blood, corroding his insides, the King ran right out of the ruins of Terrorthaw’s abandoned body, picked up Cutty from the ground by David’s abandoned party, called out to his Adventure Friends and headed to meet the gypsy hordes head-on. Father Dominoes had used all of his healing spells for the day on the Devil, who was on his feet but far from at full strength.
“You’re not fit to fight, Your Highness, fall back to the city! Our doctors will help you!” pleaded Father Dominoes.
“Not before I’ve killed ten score of filthy gypsies!” laughed the King. There was no arguing with him. He was difficult.

So the Adventure Friends ran out at the gypsy hordes while inside the city, Commander Flightfeather’s lieutenants got all of the King’s soldiers together and put together a defense for the city. If you’d been there and seen the Adventure Friends going out to fight, you’d have seen that Roxy Tripfoot wasn’t with them. Where was she, you would wonder, but you wouldn’t find out till later. Horns and sirens were sounded, and all those outside the city walls hurried to get inside. In the sky, Terrorthaw laughed and laughed and shot at the people running inside the city with his nine. He killed two washer-women and didn’t even stop to think about it, even though they had been really nice people.

Even though there were eighteen thousand gypsies running at the city, eighteen thousand was a tiny number compared to the number of gypsies that terrorized Europe day in and day out. They were even more troublesome and bad for European stability than the Irish, and that was saying something. They could live anywhere, even in mud. Their ancestors had probably made some horrible blood-sex-pact with one of the gross gods, which would explain why they were so filthy and acted so weird all the time. The King’s girlfriend, in a moment of weakness, had once taken in an abandoned baby gypsy she had found while jogging one morning. She kept the baby secret from the King, but within three weeks the baby had done something really weird and dangerous and the King had put them both to death. He cried when they burned his girlfriend, but he knew that it was for the good of Europe.

Let me just clear this up for you, as hardcore and as awesome as the King was, and as loyal and loving as his Adventure Friends were, and as powerful and deadly as the Devil was, even they could not kill eighteen thousand gypsies on their own. Also, they wouldn’t be able to delay the invasion for long enough to allow the troops to get a good defense going, so the Capital City Of Europe would be pretty much massacred and Terrorthaw would win, because there were plenty of gypsies where that eighteen thousand had come from, and he had them in his thrall. Besides, one gypsy could take down a dozen of the King’s soldiers easy, because gypsies have no honour and their blood is poison. Roxy Tripfoot knew this, because she was a strong female character and had lived in Hell for a long time and knew how these things went. Instead of running at the gypsies with the King, she had climbed on top of a mountain ledge. The ledge overlooked the coming battle. She had a good view from up there, and everyone who was about to fight could see her clearly. It was perfect, she decided. She raised her hands into the sky and crazy and colourful light shot into the sky, followed by hundreds of rabbits. She rained rabbits onto the gypsies, and the sky was filled with her light show.

The King had struck down nine gypsies with Cutty before he noticed that none of them were fighting back. He ordered his Adventure Friends to stop their charge. He shielded his eyes from the light and looked up at Roxy Tripfoot. He was so tired.
“People of Roma!” sang Roxy Tripfoot, and everyone could hear her because not one of the gypsies uttered one word. Everyone was looking up at her, their mouths agape.
“It’s the High Priestess!” said one.
“She’s returned to us!” said another.
“She’s here to reunite the people!” said another.
“You must reject Terrorthaw, for he is unclean. He is cursed. No Roma must ever speak to him again. If we fight Europe, we will die. This is not the way. Do this in my honour.” Said Roxy Tripfoot, shooting out rabbits all the time. Most of the rabbits survived the fall from the ledge and the gypsies below began to pick them up.
“Take a rabbit of mine each. By the time the last rabbit dies, I will see the people reunited, and I shall retake my place as Queen Of The Gypsies.” She said, making it up as she went along. The gypsies seemed to think this was a good idea.
“Now leave this place!” she said, and they did, but not before they tried to kill Terrorthaw. Some gypsies with packets of flight powder zipped up to his flying tower and climbed up the walls. Terrorthaw tried to get them off by shooting his nine at them and screaming. The gypsies were gaining ground. He flew off into the distance.

The King was rushed to a hospital bed. He was ordered to drink cup after cup of good, hot chicken broth to purge the gypsy dung from his blood. Roxy Tripfoot joined the Adventure Friends at his bed.
“Roxy Tripfoot, you have saved the Capital City Of Europe from attack and kept the Kingdom peaceful. You truly are a strong female character.” Said the King, giving a meaningful glance at Sally Minefield, who was in the bed next to his, having been nearly killed by the first gypsy she tried to fight.
“Thank you, Your Highness. In life, I was the High Priestess of the Roma people. I ruled them all with kindness and love, just as you now rule Europe. When I died, my people fell to the shadows. I hope to reverse that.”
“It will be a great struggle,” said the King, sipping his broth. “I wish you the very best. You will need a formal peace with Europe.” He said, looking up.
“Yes, but our people hate each other so much. How can we be at peace?” said Roxy Tripfoot, sadly.
“You will marry my son, David, when he comes of age.” Said the King, nodding at Prince David, who was sitting at the foot of the bed.

Roxy Tripfoot looked at Colonel Glowfist. Colonel Glowfist looked at Roxy Tripfoot. A tear ran down his face. David laughed and threw a wooden truck at Roxy Tripfoot. It hit her in the thigh.

End Of Chapter 18