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JOUSTING TOURNAMENT
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It was the morning of the King’s Annual Jousting Tournament. Chivalrous Athletes had come from all over the Kingdom to compete with others for the coveted title of “Joust’a Supreme". There were big Knights, little Knights, ugly Knights, (although you couldn’t tell that with their helmets on), and Knights in training, or (K.I.T.s). They brought all manner of weaponry and hunting apparatus with tents, pavilions and street vendors galore. The air was filled with aromas of delicious foods and cheery music. A Jamaican Fife, Drum and Kazoo band was on hand and a festive feel embraced all who entered the fair grounds. Which, by the way, were located just across the moat from castle “Upkeep”, the humble, (yeah, right!), residence of King Grumbly IV, who insisted on presiding over all from the battlements of the castle. Said he would take up too much room if he occupied the Royal Box which was reserved in the central stands. All decked out in ribbon and banner. The Bishop attended in his stead and threw out the first ceremonial Popcorn ball to start the activities.
The first event in the center arena was the “Squire Launching” contest. Learned men, (and some women), from various parts of the Realm had busied themselves all year to construct a catapult, called a “Trebuchet”. This device, which effectively held an object, or “payload”, (in this case a wayward Squire), in a basket at the end of a long spar which was suspended from a central point. It was counterweighted at the short end to dramatically increase the velocity at which the payload moved when the device was triggered. The arm would swing upwards with ever increasing speed and at the top of the arc the basket would release to hurl the payload a great distance. No one knows who invented this over-grown piece of siege artillery but it sure came in handy when storming another castle. The idea was to hurl flaming buckets of hot tar or “stinky stuff” into the courtyard of the besieged fortress and cause the inhabitants to find their surroundings increasingly unbearable. This unholy barrage would eventually cause the beleaguered residents to lower the drawbridge and “make a break for it”, or “flee the scene” as it were. The downside was it left the castle completely unusable for either side for quite some time after the attack.
(One has to wonder if this was the start of “Chemical Warfare”!??!)
But the Queen had outlawed the use of such things for this affair and had, instead, authorized the use of young aspiring Squires that were to be found throughout the Kingdom. Teams of brutes would roam the village and snatch the unwitting “aeronauts” from off of porches, from under bridges and off of park benches, etc.,. Then they would be lugged, (kicking and screaming), to the fairgrounds where they were kept watch over by a large, muscular Greek women with a whip and a half-eaten drumstick. When game time came the contestants would draw straws to see which budding “astronaut” they would get to launch and the best out of three would be declared the winner. They also got points for the loudest screaming in the immediate few seconds when the “payload” realized he was about to be used to shoot down vultures. The vultures were always present at these times to scarf up leftovers from the various events.
On the very first try a payload basket malfunctioned. It failed to unhook and the unfortunate “astronaut” was imbedded in the ground, about thirty feet in front of the catapult. Head first. His pointed Helmut served to act as a spike and he penetrated about two feet into the ground. Attempts to extricate him were for naught as his Helmut had expanded and was holding like an underground anchor. He was still there when the tourney ended. (Still kicking and screaming).
The next Vulture bullet went the distance and sailed over the castle wall, never to be heard from again. Witnesses said he crash-landed near the candle-maker’s house but this report was never confirmed.
A winner in the event was finally declared when a portly, (fat), Squire was accelerated at ground level through the beauty pageant area and came crashing in the front door of the Western Union office. The surviving carrier pigeons were diving under cover to escape the marauding vultures and he caused a real panic in the Medieval Beauty Pageant. Tunics and corsets were everywhere.
The main event was a rousing success but it was not without casualties. The sanctioning body of the Joust, “KNIGHTS IN COLLISION”, or K.I.C, had, as usual, decided to change the rules to make the event more exciting and had eliminated the central dividing railing between the jousting combatants. The railing was originally put there to keep the charging steeds and their riders respectably distant while they were attempting to drive a long blunted pole up the other’s bloomers. The event was loud and hotly contested. And there were a few moments of utter concern and dismay when Sir Hammer‘it’s horse had crossed the line and collided head-on with the other Knight and his mount. Armor plate, dentures and several gold Sovereigns went flying. The scene was a shambles for several moments and it took the rescue crews a few anxious minutes to locate Sir What’sis. He’d been catapulted over the bleachers and into the back door of a Chinese laundry. By the time the rescue forces had found him he’d been “starched”. His horse was hooves up in the gutter amid various pieces of armor and feathers. Seems his horse had gotten into some fermented oats back at the stable and had gotten “buzzed” right before the festival. The resulting intoxication led to a head-on crash in the first heat. Sir What’sis’ lance had careened into the stands, spearing two little old ladies and a Cocker Spaniel.
Sir Hammer’it had been pole vaulted into the stands and was currently engaged in a loud argument with a fan about the chicken sandwich he had flattened on impact.
Other than that the events went off without a hitch.
Until the Dragon showed up!!
Popped up outta the cheap seats and bar-b-qued three squires and a Hungarian Organ Grinder before moving down the fairway to the “Big Top”! Caught the Chinese Jugglers flat-footed and turned them into egg-fu-yuk before they could get off a 911 call. When the On-Duty Jester showed up the “Flamer” chased him all the way down to down to the Jamaican band stand where he tripped over a crashed Squire. The Dragon roasted his corn, on the spot!
Right about then, just as the local “Bookie”, (Village Odds-maker), was starting to take bets, The Knight Corp rallied and confronted the Flamer in front of the Bagel Vendor. The air was full of roasted pigeon, panicked knaves and burnt bagels and the Fife and Flute band never missed a beat. The beauty pageant was cancelled because all the girls were shell-shocked.
The King had taken up refuge behind the gate house because the vultures had mistaken him for a catapult contestant.
All was well in the Kingdom and no finer time was to be had anywhere.
The Dragon was last reported running for his cave, grinning like a Cheshire cat and carrying a screaming beauty contestant in his teeth.
(It’s OK. They got her back!)
Just wait till next year!!
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