Friday, April 07, 2006
Kill the Queen
by R.L. Wisdom
A couple of friends and me bought an old boat. It was not in good shape. The boat was faded green, about 15 feet long and 4 or 5 feet wide. The seats were recessed a bit, so when sitting your head would be about level with the boat itself. Near where we lived there was a rapid that kayakers used. We wanted to take our new monstrosity out on the rapids and shoot them. We had a friend who had some experience captaining vessels, so we picked him up and drove to the launch.
Once we were all on the boat and in the water, we took off down the river. The boat had no engine, just a rudder attached to a steering wheel. The ride was immediately rough, and I almost threw up. I was sitting starboard, and around the first bend it felt like we were going to smash into the wall of the canyon. We grazed the wall a bit and out of habit I put my arms out to brace myself and maybe to slow the boat from crashing into the rocks. We got the boat under control and things went smoother, though in a few instances I was afraid we might run over a kayaker or two.
At the end of the shoot, we had the ‘captain’ pull alongside the shore under a tree. Me and two friends disembarked. We knew of a secret party that occurred only once-a-year. To get in, you had to be at a certain place within a specific timeframe. The party’s location was other-dimensional. A porthole of sorts opened up and we were transported into the party.
Events and possibilities at this party were boundless. Rooms full of dancing, gyrating masses of people. Areas that resembled pool halls, pubs, ultra-chic hot-spots, etc. were just around the corner, in the next room. Everyone drank copious amounts, without getting too drunk.
I was there for one specific reason: to kill the Queen, the host of the party. The Queen not only controlled the party, the Queen controlled everything, by means of telepathy.
The Queen threw this party every year for the sole purpose of defeating potential vanquishers. Whoever kills the Queen inherits His powers. I had been trying to kill Him for 5ive years. The Queen didn’t mess around though. He had put me in the hospital on three separate occasions.
The challenge presented by the Queen was two-fold: trivial & physical. He starts the challenge by asking questions. Who was the minister of defense under Thatcher? Who was Clinton’s under-secretary of defense? Name the member-states of OPEC. What was the previous capital of South Africa?
If one makes it past the trivialities stage, then the physical battle begins. The Queen wastes no time on those who aren’t worldly and well-rounded. The battle itself isn’t hand-to-hand. On this particular occasion, the Queen started shooting at me with a shotgun. I dodged slugs using my body and my mind.
All the while, the party continued. Nobody watched the battle as it took place. The Queen will not allow anyone to be hurt by errant bullets or flying debris. I had no weapon. After multiple misses, I let him shoot me. I directed the slug into the side of my abdomen, an oblique hit, through and through. The Queen became careless. He thought the challenge was over. He turned His back on me, thinking me defeated. I impaled Him with a shattered pool cue.
Upon crowning Myself, there was no celebration save the massive event already in full swing. I didn’t need a coronation, I now controlled everything. I wanted a drink. Within moments, a friend handed Me a Johnny Black: rocks. Getting a drink was nothing compared to the potential powers I now possessed. I decided to walk onto the dance floor and test the limits of my powers.
The first thing I wanted to do was to get a woman to come up to Me and initiate a conversation. I looked around the room. I didn’t want to try it on someone who was attached. I walked through a few rooms, until I saw an Asian beauty by the bar. She was getting a drink. I passed her and went to the other end. As she passed, she looked at Me and I was able to catch her eye. After a few seconds she paused, then turned around. As she approached Me, she had a look of nervousness about her. She didn’t know what compelled her to come to Me, but she knew only that she couldn’t deny herself. We chatted, but I wasn’t really interested. I had affirmed what I was seeking.
I realized that while I controlled everything sub-consciously, I was not capable of changing events in an instant. If I wanted to hear a particular song, it came on next. Nothing was interrupted; instead, things flowed. Events that took place in other rooms played out on their own. If I sensed anything amiss, I could take corrective measures. If everything was as it should be, I needn’t bother. It was only when things got heady that I would have to take action. Even then, it didn’t siphon the attention I paid to what was going on in front of Me. Omniscience is a hell of a drug. I never did figure out if the people in attendance knew that I was the Queen now or not. It hardly mattered, and I preferred that they not know.
I met up with My friends, who saw My wound and wanted to take Me to the hospital. I told them not to worry. They brought Me a drink. They said that We should get drunk celebrating. I told them I could make that happen. I was the Queen.
