A Conspiracy Fairy Tale

In a land far away in the bubble of another dimension, a King was growing weaker. People were beginning to notice that his clothes were becoming less visible.This land had begun as a free land but sudden floods of laws had eroded that freedom and foul fires had burnt out the ethical heart of the land and finally a pandemic had broken the will of the people.

Now the Chief of the Secret Police and Dark Arts was looking, once again at the throne. He had tried before and failed when his advisors gave him some bad information. Those advisors had paid a suitable price and the King was told by his own advisors to leave the Secret Police Chief alone as he knew not only where all the bodies were buried but also that he was a vindictive and unforgiving opponent and best left alone.

As the King’s clothes became more and more see-through, the Chief began looking around at the rivals to the throne he coveted. The Doctor is too small and wimpish, he thought. The Plumber and the Farmer had other, much more profitable, interests. The Book-keeper had all the leadership ability of an alopecious lap dog.The Overseer, loud and shrill, with an excellent screech, was a woman and so could be discounted. The swinging dicks of the lesser courtiers could be counted on to reject her.

No! His thoughts turned more and more to the Door-keeper. Popular with the rest of the leadership and having a way with words. With his pedigree and his history, he could well steal the throne from its rightful occupant.

The Chief turned to his Dark Arts.As he gazed upon his crystal ball he saw the past of all under his power as well as those who were not yet under his power. He concentrated his gaze upon the past of the Door-keeper. Looking for something which could damage the foot he had in the door.After weeks of searching and finding only that the Door-Keeper had a superfluity of wives and a number of easily impressed servants, the Chief almost gave up.

Then he found it.

An incident in his youth. Involving a young lady with a lack of appreciation of his high-born droit de seigneur.

The information was noted and acted upon. The Chief organised that the information was passed on to a few selected leaders who could be trusted to reveal to the peasants that the information was there. No names or positions were mentioned in public yet the Door-keeper was able to see the lie of the land. He knew that the peasants were becoming tired of the excessive taxation and punitive actions of this King. They were also very annoyed at the way the Court used their droit de seigneur. He carefully faded into the background.

And the Chief of the Secret Police sharpened his knives and gazed upon the throne and its current occupant.

And no one lived happily ever after.

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