167. Parlez vousing with Pepperpot

167. Parlez vousing with Pepperpot

Pepperpot was not in his counting house counting out his money. He was in his throne room working on his bonsais. There was a small rickety  table next to his fabulous throne with three or four stunted trees on it, as well as what we the Fay consider instruments of torture. But Petey thought instead that caring for bonsais was just like governing. You had to keep your people reduced so you could care for them lovingly. And he practiced this fine art whenever he could. 

“Hey, there!” cried Petey when he saw us. “I don’t recognize you, but I’ve been told you are the guys who put me in power. That’s what my herald said. So, isn’t this so?”

I recognized him the minute I saw him. He was the same skinny fellow with the goatee, only this time he was so bedecked I wondered how his frail form could stand upright with all the precious stones and metals that adorned his heavy robes. He descended and put on a ceremonial coat to honour us and changed the crown he was wearing to a much more splendid one. So studded and embroidered were his clothes that you could only see the purple velvet peer meekly from behind huge emeralds, rubies and pearls. His neck had to be killing him. Aside from thick gold chains with large medallions that he quickly hung around it, it had to hold his head, its pierced ears hung with huge wild pearls and studded round with diamonds, and further up was the huge crown, the largest I have ever seen on anyone, and let me tell you, I have seen crowns. All he lacked, I thought, was a ring round his nose to be led by. Pity, I thought. It might have made things easier.

“If you don’t recognize me,” he said, “don’t think it’s because I’ve changed. I’m still wearing my old beret on top of my crowns. I’m wearing all this bling to prove riches are nothing but a burden to me. A blasted burden I am only too pleased to bear for my people, of course. I love them so. So, are you who they say you are?” 

I had expected aggression, but Petey was smiling broadly and actually looked very happy to see us. This should have encouraged me to think there might yet be a peaceful solution to my problem, but it only made me more nervous. And for the moment speechless. It was Alpin who answered Petey.

“Yes, I’m the idiot responsible. The fool that made all this happen.”

“I imagine you are here to help us with funds. We sure need funding. Welcome, Benefactors, welcome! Look at the splendid job we’ve done on our floor.”

The floor was indeed the first thing you noticed when you stepped into Petey’s palace. It was covered all over with heaps and piles of discarded sunflower seed husks. But Petey gave one of these piles a kick and cleared a bit of the floor with his foot, shod in an obviously expensive Italian leather sandal dyed an imperial purple.

“Solid gold,” he said pointing at the floor with his toes.

It was. Not the sandal. The floor. We were standing on a solid gold floor.

“We put our gold down there so we can tread on it and in this way show how low it is and how we despise it. The flooring here is all solid gold. I wish all my territory could have a solid gold ground. But we can’t get enough of it to make that dream come true. Are you here to help with that? It would make us so happy!”

It was then that I noticed someone emerge partially from behind one of four massive malachite columns that surrounded the enormous throne Petey had descended from to greet us. This someone wore a white doctor’s coat and was munching lazily on sunflower seeds it extracted from one of its coat pockets. 

“Who is us?” I ventured, not taking my eyes off the munching apparition. “Are you using the royal plural?”

“Of course. Pluralis majestatis. Myself and my people. It could never be otherwise.”

“Your nosism confuses me,” I said. “It doesn’t look to me like your people have much to do with your way of thinking. If they can think at all.”

“Huh?” Petey looked genuinely surprised.

“He wants an election,” drawled the phantom in white, spitting out a husk. She moved away from the column and stood to the right of the solid gold throne with its guardian glaring gold eagles and lions. Behind her moved what I took for two shadows. For a second I thought she was like me. She had two shadows. But then I saw one of hers was no regular shadow. Though as tall and broad as she was, it was more like some kind of black swarm. White Coat took another seed to her mouth and said to Petey as she crunched on it, “I’ve seen this before. He won’t give you money unless you run a democracy. Not to worry. Your people will vote for you. Ask him how much do we get if I arrange an election.”

“Don’t you give these people a thing!” a tiny voice buzzed hysterically in my ear. “Don’t grant them the least of fairy favors. It’s utterly forbidden. You don’t know the mess you’ll get yourself into. And it won’t work. Zombies don’t vote freely.”

“Don’t sting me!” cried Alpin.

With the corner of my left eye I spotted a wee bee fluttering nervously near my left temple.

“Why, of all things! You actually have a bee in your bonnet!” said Petey, sounding genuinely concerned. It was then I noticed everything about this man was genuine and heartfelt. If he hadn’t been genuinely crazy, we might have reached some kind of an agreement. But he was nuts. “You’ll have to take it off and I’ll kill the bug. I can hit even that little a target with my bow and arrow. I’m still a really good shot.”

“Who is the Lady Falguniben?” asked the creature in white, spitting out another husk.

“Honey, don’t be indiscreet!” said Petey to the thing behind him. “He’ll tell us when he is ready.”

I realized this was the infamous Dr. Viruta Pocuscocus, Petey’s own true love. I also realized I had had enough nonsense from these two creeps. Remembering what I had learned from the Devil himself in Salamanca, I spoke out sternly. 

“You have seventy two hours to release your people from the stupefaction they are under,” I said, more to Viruta than to Petey.

“Or else!” added Alpin.

“What? What stupefaction? What?” asked Petey, with a dropping jaw.

Viruta came down the three steps of the black marble platform Petey’s colossal throne was raised on.

“What is else?” asked the doctor.

“Else is you also clean the air,” I added firmly.

Viruta’s answer was to spit a husk at me. It hit the rock crystal glass of my visor.

“Don´t touch it! Don’t clean it off!” hissed Alpin and the bee in horrified unison.

That husk put the quietus on our conversation. The bee, the apple and I  went invisible just in time to avoid her second shadow, a swarm of what had to be the venomous pipnoshers, congregating to fly against us. But we did not leave before I had thundered “Seventy two hours!” over and over again, truly sounding like the stunning voice of Doom. Unfortunately, this impressive effect was a little marred by the mask’s trumpet choosing to blow more cheers for Lady Falguniben and her father in time, but what could be done about that?

“What was that about?” we heard Petey ask his true love looking genuinely astonished as we left.

Viruta shrugged and spat another husk.

“They have my DNA,” she said calmly. “Bah! They won’t know how to use it.”

Ah, she was wrong! Indeed I had no idea how to handle her DNA. But what I did have was a weird brother called Thymian. And we’re off to the next chapter.