If you have to steal something multiple times, does that make you stupid or dull or a victim of evil circumstances?
V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet
King Arthur smiled slyly. “You don’t know why, do you?” His grin sorta took over his whole face. It was odd; unnerving; scary; I hoped I was hallucinating.
But I wasn’t.
“Well…” I began.
But Arthur cut me off.
“I’ll tell you: It’s because it’s very expensive!”
And he said it like it was a revelation.
“You don’t say…” this professor said.
“So, do we have a deal? The katana for your freedom?”
Now, what were the options? Not many to be found, and I was searching hard.
“Look here,”–and Arthur’s eyes were staring straight at my eyes; it was an eye-war, see–“done.”
I wasn’t planning on saying it, but saying it, I did.
There was no other way about it.
I’d get the katana back later.
Once Arthur had it fixed, hopefully. It’d be a whole sword again soon!
Now I know this professor was saying how it was wrong I stole the sword in order to stop further thieving earlier, but…that was earlier. I even said I had to give it back to Prince Beef. What a thing.
See here, things changed back to regular. After all, the professor is a warrior and warriors take swords. Plus, I was stopping further thieving by thieving, so it was a good cause.
Yeah, I must admit, the wound had muddied my mind earlier.
So, new plan: Thieve the sword from Arthur; make sure it gets fixed; and hang it on my wall back home.
Much better plan.
“Good,” Arthur said. “I’m glad you’re acting sensible finally.”
The woman standing off to the side of Arthur’s throne didn’t like things a bit.
“You told me he’d suffer for this!” she said, pointing to her cheek.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Apologize, PVJ, would you?”
It was more of a command.
The woman stormed past, like a storm.
“I’ve got a question, the sudden,” I said once she was gone.
“Hmm?” Arthur replied. He was standing over by the katana, inspecting it.
Not really paying attention.
“Why did you offer me a deal when you could’ve just taken the sword?”
Arthur didn’t even turn around. “Because that woman was there. I had to make it seem like you could get punished if you didn’t pay some sort of retribution.” He spun around and faced me. “I am a just king, you know. But thank her if you see her again. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be in the dungeon. Or dead.”
Arthur laughed–a bit like a witch–and left the room.
Only this professor and the two guards remained.
“I’ve half a mind to beat his brains in!” one said, staring at me.
“No, no!” the other warned. “The king would have our heads.” Then to me: “Get out, dog!”
The professor left. I’d be back, of course.
I made my way through the town until I found a tavern. That’s when I got a meal and cleaned up my wound. (By the way, the wound wasn’t as bad as it seemed, once it was washed and bandaged. It’d be gone in no time, see. Still sore, yes, though.)
And as this professor sat in the tavern eating some sort of horrid beef stew and not drinking the fuzzy white ale, I knew a thing or two–or three:
It was time to steal the katana again. Was this really the third time I’d be stealing it? Stealing it again?!
What a life.