I was cranky.
I hadn’t slept, I was overwhelmed and a cardboard cutout of the Princess that turned out to actually be the Princess just bombarded me with information that had nothing to do with my problem. Five minutes ago I was absolutely certain the year was 1984. I was so certain that if I had to write a check out to pay an outstanding balance I would have written “84” in the date line. Of course there aren’t many six year olds who have checking accounts, or those who pay their own bills via checking but that’s beside the point. The point was I wanted to know how the hell was it 2012, not be informed I perpetrated mass genocide on a race of half owl half men creatures.
Continue reading “Chapter 18 – The One Where I Tell You About Old Vagina”
As a six-year old with a fucked up childhood I’d say I handled myself well in all my previous experiences. No matter the severity or the heightened sense of ridiculousness I somehow managed to come through relatively unscathed. Even if I couldn’t process what was going on I could deal with it. I would just add it to the list of shit I would tell my therapist in twenty years.
Time travel, however is a whole different list of shit.
Continue reading “Chapter 17 – W….T………..F”
The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. The Princess and Fred were in the throes of planning the wedding, down to the tiniest detail. For instance, they went back and forth for two days regarding how we should enter the Grand Hall as newlyweds. There were two options. The first was to charge through an eight foot, thinly sliced piece of Canadian ham. The second was to walk through a ninety-foot crispy bacon bridge from the entrance to our thrones. To this day I wished we tore through the Canadian ham like a high school football team coming out of the tunnel although I understand why. Did your face ever come in contact with a greasy piece of Canadian ham? It’s brutal. Now factor in her makeup and the amount of cameras covering the event. Realistically, there was no way it could work. We had to use the crispy bacon bridge.
Marriage is full of compromises.
Continue reading “Ch 16 – Somebody’s Getting MAAAAHHHWEEEEED”
The space satellite Fred called a left hand lingered on my face for what seemed like five hundred and thirty-two days as my still developing brain tried to process what had just happened. I could still imagine the site of Queen Briana squirting at me and I was pretty sure King George was all over my face. Panic reigned supreme as the Danish crowd screamed in shock and horror. If you’ve never heard a bunch of Danish people freaking out, imagine the sound produced by a Chinese guy playing the accordion.
It was horrible.
Continue reading “Chapter 15 – Six-year-olds Cannot Drop F-bombs”
I would love to tell you all about what happened from the time the Nugent slayed the Thicke up until I woke up with most of Denmark surrounding my prone body. Of course I can’t because I was passed out and this is a work of non-fiction. What I can tell you is what they told me, all at once in a language I still didn’t understand.
Av mig God he’s vågen! Av mig God he’s levende! Allerkærest TOM du har blevet sovende nemlig henimod atten timer og vi var bange du var livløs! Du har overvunden den horribel Ugle Skabning og nyde oplagt os al af bestandig mørke! Vi skylde jer adskilligt men vi tal den prinsesse er mere end nok. Og nu nogen jo kunne konstruere den indre , opbygge en plan alarmeret babelfish og oversætte indeværende i det hele taget andenstemmer.
Continue reading “Chapter 14 – A Wink is Just as Good as a Blink to a Deaf King”