The man before the revolution
Everyone was waiting for the revolution. They had all heard about others and the tremendous benefits a revolution would bring. They felt there was a great need for the population to rise as one and assuage war against the oppressors.
This would be their crowd sourced revolution. From the people, for the people. Who would not want it?
The sovereign was not a handsome man, everyone knew this. He could not ride a horse. He was not a good swordsman (he was not even a bad swordsman). He had never used a sword.
Never an heroic act had been documented against his name. There were no stories of famous battle scars, no battle scars at all. He had never saved a child from drowning. He had never even saved a puppy.
But the country still must have a revolution. It was essential for the future growth and well being of the nation’s maturing. Every great nation had been through a revolution; France, Russia, America, the Philippines.
Such turbulent times were studied in educational institutions with a seriousness and concentration usually only afforded the tasting of damn expensive wine, which was required to pick up the “apricot and cantaloupe flavours”.
The governing sovereign of their country was one called Evan. He was a great juggler and I mean this in the literal sense. Not a juggler of finances and/or politics, but of balls, of ten-pin bowling pins, of knives, of chainsaws, even of kittens.
He was a great unicyclists. In fact one Christmas he unicycled across the entire countryside, from village to village, bring presents to every inhabitant. Why he even had presents for family guests and friends who were just visiting.
He also was a great teller of jokes. Like the one about the couple who were asked by the maitre’d of a famous restaurant “Excuse em moi, but do you have reservations?”
“Yes”, replied the man, “but we’ll eat here anyway”. And then he would cackle. Not laugh in the quiet, behind the hand way, that you see some royals do, but it was a lean-back and bellow hearty laugh.
Often he would walk through the streets of the capital slapping people on the back, paying for breakfasts, or just sitting and chatting.
He had gone onto the internet once and this is what he had learnt:
- That a zombie apocalypse was imminent
- Elvis Presley was alive and continually leaving buildings
- That most famous people had either a diet or perfume named after them
- That people believed in Gods more than ever before. It’s just that their names were now Justin Bieber, Lady GaGa, U2, The Beatles, and there was even a Madonna, a Kim, and a Paris.
The people desperately wanted a revolution.They desperately felt they were missing out on the wonders of the world that they heard about on the internet.
“A revolution will make us a better nation.” Shouted the supporters, “We cannot progress and be a modern culture and part of the global village without a revolution.”
And so one night, while Evan slept in his bed, cuddled up next to his puppy and juggling pins, and unicycle, the revolutionary activists, crept in past the guard station (there had never been a need for actual Guards), through the front door (the lock had rusted over and fused with the housing due to lack of use), up the stairs and killed Evan. They then took his body and threw it in the ocean.
