The Second part
Still on crack. That last bit was about a thousand words of exposition. Fear my babbling skills.
The keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord was a creature of habit, and this morning like every other morning, he awoke long before anyone else and slunk downstairs in favor of a cup of Earl Grey tea. He then made his way back upstairs and shed his magician’s sleepwear in favor of a smart, blue and yellow track suit and warm, waterproof boots with extra traction on the soles. He then made his way out the door, down a corridor, back down the stairs, out of the castle, and around the moat, to where his rowboat, the Michael Ball, was tied to the dock. He untied it, and began his morning row around the castle. As he rowed, he liked to sing, frequently a hymn, and occasionally a popular rock and roll tune from decades past. Once, he even made up a tune about the great hardship of working for an Evil Ferret Overlord. As he began his second lap, he thought he heard shouting coming from the forest. He tethered his boat to a post on the opposite shore and slunk through the trees. He climbed up a tall, leafy one, and concealed himself in the branches. What he saw worried him. He made his way back down to solid ground, back to his boat, and across the moat to the castle entrance. Keeper doubted the Evil Ferret Overlord would be awake as yet, so he decided to find out what was for breakfast. Keeper was greeted enthusiastically by Phillipe, the Evil Ferret Overlord’s personal chef.
“Heylo keeper! How is.”
“Hungry. What’s for breakfast?”
“Eggums. Has bacons and fruits if wants. Is melonfruit.”
“Eggs and melon will be fine, thank you. Is the EFO awake?”
“Yes, Roy. I’m afraid so. Your singing woke Alter, and she began to scurry about, and woke me. The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord turned to see a bleary-eyed anthropomorphic ferret standing behind her, with a rather more ordinary mustelid perched on her head.
“Heylo, Evil Ferret Overlord. I makes bacons to crunch.”
“Hooray!” said the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Alter wants?” Philippe asked, pointing to the ferret perched on top of the head of the Evil Ferret Overlord. Alter lunged, landing on Philippe’s shoulder. She eagerly took a piece of bacon from Philippe’s hand. Philippe then put a hard boiled egg on the floor for her to play with.
“Oh, Roy?” The Evil Ferret Overlord said, ever-so-sweetly.
“I’m not called Roy.” Keeper grumbled.
“I call you Roy,” said the Evil Ferret Overlord, “and my suit has not been polished since yesterday.”
“This does not bode well for me,” said keeper. “Any chance I might finish my breakfast first?”
“A small chance, at least. Shall we have our breakfast in the sitting room?” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Very well.” Said Roy. Rosencrantz, the shorter of the Evil Ferret Overlord’s attorneys, had a bedroom between the kitchen and the sitting room. The overlord and her keeper stopped there on their way. The evil ferret Overlord hoisted the still sleeping Rosencrantz out of her bed, and carried her with them into the sitting room. She set her down in front of a velvet cushioned easy chair, then took a seat herself, resting her feet on Rosencrantz’s back.
“Ooof!” came a protest.
“Morning, Rosie.” Said the evil ferret overlord, brightly. “Bacon?” She reached down to offer a piece to her most unwilling footrest.
“Hmmph.” Said Rosencrantz, taking the bacon and beginning to nibble slowly and groggily at it.”
“For heaven’s sake, use a napkin at least.” Protested Keeper. She tossed a cloth napkin over to Rosencrantz, who set her bacon down upon it.
“Sleep well, Rosie?” asked the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Mmmhmm.” Murmured the still-drowsy attorney.
“My attorney has a way with words, doesn’t she?” The Evil Ferret Overlord said. The group finished their meal in silence, before returning to the Galley to deposit their dishes and retrieve Alter Ego, who had tired of her egg, and had begun batting around a melon baler. The Evil Ferret Overlord scooped her up and returned the melon baller to Philippe. She left him with instructions to send supplies of food to the dungeons, and return Rosencrantz, who had fallen back to sleep on the floor, to her bed. Then, the Evil Ferret Overlord turned to her Keeper. “Now then, about that polishing.”
“Bugger. I was hoping you had forgotten.”
“I never forget about my polish.” The Evil Ferret Overlord grinned.
They returned Alter to her tunnels, via a catch in one section. She scurried through the castle, back to her ferrety suite to begin her morning nap. The two more humanoid figures then began their journey to the chamber where the polish was kept. The castle was outfitted with elevators of the nifty glass variety that allowed the occupants to look at their surroundings as they rose or descended, and had soothing plinkity piano music piped through, but generally speaking, the keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord had a preference for the stairs, which were winding, and featured wrought iron railings. His rationale was that should anyone be watching, it was a far more dramatic sight to see him stomping about on a spiral staircase than riding around in glass boxes. Besides, he liked the way the heels of his boots sounded, pounding against the gray stone.
The evil ferret overlord waited at the top of the stairs for her keeper to open the door, which he did, wondering if he ought to let it close, just before her tail was all the way through, but then he noticed that the evil ferret overlord’s fangs were looking especially sharp and shiny that morning. It was more than a fair bet that she was eager for a chance to use them, and quite frankly, the keeper of the evil ferret overlord was not the least bit eager to add another set of puncture marks to his collection. The evil ferret overlord lowered herself onto a wooden bench, which was located below the shiny window. Another, more ordinary window let the light in, to reflect upon the shiny window and create a kaleidoscopic effect. The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord made his way tentatively across the stone floor, taking care to avoid the slick spots caused by spills, which occurred when the Evil Ferret Overlord became fidgety. He climbed up the high shelves and retrieved a can of Overlord’s Choice Deluxe Ego Polish: Delighting the EFO for a significant amount of time. He descended the shelving unit, holding the can in his jaws, and returned to where the overlord was seated under the shiny window. The keeper opened the can of polish, and set to work, beginning with the Evil Ferret Overlord’s outstretched feet, the claws of which, the Keeper felt were badly in need of some trimming. But, once again, he noted the gleam in her fangs, and thought better of saying so.
“Ahh, that’s more like it.” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord. “So, how was your morning row?”
“Well…” said keeper hesitantly.
“Out with it, Roy.” Demanded the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“It seems, EFO, that the villagers have invented a new game. They’re very excited about it.
“Oh dear.” The villagers were known to invent terribly foolish pastimes, which always wound up somehow irking the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Quite. It seems they have taken to forming small bands of eight or ten large men, who run headlong into each other, all over an oblong sort of ball, which one group or the other must get to a line on the ground. They call it a sport, and the villagers seem to have great personal stake in the outcome.”
“As long as it’s porterhouse.” The overlord shrugged.
“No, the other kind of stake.”
“The Dracula kind?” The Evil Ferret Overlord suddenly had an unnerving gleam in her eye. Either that or it was a trick of the multicolored light. It was probably that. One of the green facets was casting a reflection in just about the right spot. “That sounds good to me. If one team loses, the other team can impale them. Literally.” By this time, she was practically bouncing with glee. This was of course, a distressing sight. Generally speaking, ten-foot-tall anthropomorphic ferrets should not bounce. Also, this action threatened to upset the polish.
“Hold still. You’ll upset the polish.” Said Keeper, as if on cue. (Funny, that.) “and no, it’s not the Dracula kind. It’s the investment kind.” The Keeper crossed the room and dragged over a ladder, to better reach the entirety of the Evil Ferret overlord’s suit, which was, of course firmly attached to the Evil Overlord. As far as the occupants of the castle knew, no one had ever seen her without it, and the EFO intended to keep it that way. She was close to her minions and fond of them in a way, but certainly not that close, and definitely not that fond, and absolutely, positively not in that way. Besides, smiting was a far more entertaining pastime than wooing, and more often than not, it yielded more shiny surprises, like a firecracker down an unruly villager’s trousers. Surprise!
“You missed a bit.” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“I did no such thing. Where?”
“Right down there, by my tail.” The Overlord pointed to a spot near her posterior. She wasn’t one for romance, but she was also not above making her minions feel uncomfortable. Fortunately for The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord, but slightly disappointingly for the Evil Ferret Overlord herself, there was a knock, three times on the door (not the ceiling. Only the overlord could reach that high, and she found that doing so was one of those unnecessary effort things.)
“Enter. For the love of shiny objects, enter right now!” pleaded the Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord. The person who had been heretofore on the other side of the heavy wooden door pushed it open and stepped through the doorway, so that the person in question was now on the other side of the door.
The person in the aforementioned question turned out to be none other than the Evil Ferret Overlord’s taller and more masculine attorney cum household accessory, Guildenstern.
“Morning, Gil!” the Evil Ferret Overlord greeted, “Keeper tells me the villagers have invented a new game. Best of all, the winning team gets to stab the losers with wooden stakes!” The poor attorney looked suddenly pale and alarmed.
“I said no such thing.” The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord sighed. “I told you, it’s emotional stakes, not wooden.”
The overlord’s face looked crestfallen, as only the face of a disappointed ferret can. “You mean, there is no stabbing involved?”
“None that I saw.”
“What sort of pastime is that? That barely qualifies as a hobby, let alone a sport. Where’s the bloodshed and mayhem?”
“It’s the sort of hobby a villager would find enjoyable, I suppose, EFO.” The keeper guessed.
“Speaking of the villagers” said the attorney Guildenstern, jumping at the only chance he might get to speak, “you did get the message about the exciting breakthrough one of their scientific types has made?”
“Messages? I’m a ten foot tall anthropomorphic ferret, not a secretary. Messages are for other people to get and read to me. Right Roy?”
“Do I look like a secretary to you?”
“Hmm…no.” Before the Keeper or Guildenstern could protest, the Evil Ferret Overlord had snatched Guildenstern’s glasses, pen and legal pad and adorned the Keeper with them. “That’s better. Now you look like a proper secretary.” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord. Keeper and Guildenstern were not remotely amused.
“They’ve created some sort of spirit contacting device.” Guildenstern said.
“Hm. Weird. I’ll investigate that and the pastime thing after naptime.” After naptime was when just about everything got done around the castle. Naptime started immediately after polishing time and lasted anywhere from half an hour to well into the evening, depending on the arbitrary whims of the Evil Ferret Overlord. On this particular day, naptime fell somewhere in between the two, allowing just enough time for the Evil Ferret Overlord to have a most unusual dream. Many people were previously unaware that physical manifestations of abstract psychological concepts could sleep, let alone have dreams, but the Evil Ferret Overlord did on a very regular basis. Durring this particular dream, the overlord and her various relatives (who had been conveniently conjured up by the Evil Ferret Overlord’s subconscious) were visited by a long-dead rich uncle. That is, the overlord liked to tell people he was a rich uncle. He actually had very little income to his name, save for a prodigious collection of beer cans, all of which the overlord had inherited at the time of his death, on account of her deep and abiding enthusiasm for all things shiny. The uncle also had his own vehicle, a shiny white pickup truck. In the dream, the truck had mysteriously rematerialized in a shopping mall parking lot, and the man himself, beer gut and all, had rematerialized shortly thereafter, thoroughly confusing everyone involved.
“Weren’t you dead?” the Evil Ferret Overlord asked.
“Umm…not quite.” The formerly dead uncle explained. “I actually faked my own death to help you guys out.”
“How was your dying helpful exactly?” One of the teenaged relatives asked.
The previously deceased, theoretically wealthy uncle smiled. “Remember how a bunch of you had really lousy grades that year?” The ones to whom the memory was applicable nodded, including the Evil Ferret Overlord, who had really only been interested in the parts of the school day which involved marveling at her own accomplishments. “Didn’t you notice how they suddenly improved right after I died?” the uncle continued.
“So you actually blackmailed our teachers?”
“Pretty much.” Everyone laughed in the general fashion of a cheesy television ending. Of course, the explanation made no sense whatsoever, but logic was only just barely a factor of the goings-on in the Evil Ferret Overlord’s waking world, let alone the world of her dreams. The Evil Ferret Overlord awoke, feeling rejuvenated and rather cheerful, all things considered. Still, she made a special little trip to visit her beer can collection, just to be sure. It was intact, and shiny as ever, to her relief.
The Evil Ferret Overlord retrieved her royal keeper from the study and made the announcement that it was time to begin the trek to the woodland village. While the Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord went to change into suitable marauding attire, the Evil Ferret Overlord made a side trip to the Alter Suite to check whether Alter was napping, eating, or otherwise indisposed. When the Evil Ferret Overlord found that her small, fuzzy counterpart was none of the above, she picked her up and placed her between her own ferrety ears. Alter loved marauding trips.
It should be mentioned that the Evil Ferret Overlord had managed to get through at least two doors without the aid of her Royal Keeper. This was because of a key castle feature, only recently installed. Several of the key doors had been made automatic and overlord accessible. To work them, the Evil Ferret Overlord had only to press a small button similar to the ones found on automatic wheelchair-access doors. The major difference was that instead of the ubiquitous symbol of the androgynous figure in the wheelchair, these buttons featured miniatures of the Evil Ferret Overlord’s portrait.
Keeper, Overlord, and Overlordly (a perfectly legitimable word in the realm of the Evil Ferret Overlord) Alter Ego reunited in front of the drawbridge of the castle. The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord had changed into a tunic, slacks, a black, swishy cape, and a fresh top hat. He also carried a dapper black cane, which doubled as a scabbard. The Overlord had opted for her standard suit, riding boots, a leather whip, and a shiny silver satchel in which alter could ride. The Evil Ferret Overlord examined the chariot the keeper had brought out for their journey.
“You do realized that we are living in a post-industrial society?” she asked
“Of course, EFO.”
“And we have cars and a public system and helicopters at our disposal?”
“Well yes, that is certainly true.”
“So, why the chariot.”
“Dramatic flair!” said the keeper, triumphantly. He had a point there. The chariot was a shinier, more dramatic sight than any helicopter. From the brass-plated wheels to the harnesses on the Clydesdales, to the bright gold-leaf flames emblazoned on the side, it was just the sort of thing in which an Evil Ferret Overlord, and her keeper, and her Royal Keeper, and sable coated quadruped alter ego would look stately and fearsome while riding.
“Giddyup!” Cried the Evil Ferret Overlord, cracking her whip with unbridled ferrety glee. As misfortune would have it, the Clydesdales were of the expertly trained variety (actually, the EFO had bought them from the local equivalent of Anheuser-Bush, as an homage to her dead uncle.), and they began to trot off across the drawbridge. The Evil Ferret Overlord had to run, pulling her keeper behind her. She took a flying leap, and the entire party landed with a thud in the seat.
The keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord was a creature of habit, and this morning like every other morning, he awoke long before anyone else and slunk downstairs in favor of a cup of Earl Grey tea. He then made his way back upstairs and shed his magician’s sleepwear in favor of a smart, blue and yellow track suit and warm, waterproof boots with extra traction on the soles. He then made his way out the door, down a corridor, back down the stairs, out of the castle, and around the moat, to where his rowboat, the Michael Ball, was tied to the dock. He untied it, and began his morning row around the castle. As he rowed, he liked to sing, frequently a hymn, and occasionally a popular rock and roll tune from decades past. Once, he even made up a tune about the great hardship of working for an Evil Ferret Overlord. As he began his second lap, he thought he heard shouting coming from the forest. He tethered his boat to a post on the opposite shore and slunk through the trees. He climbed up a tall, leafy one, and concealed himself in the branches. What he saw worried him. He made his way back down to solid ground, back to his boat, and across the moat to the castle entrance. Keeper doubted the Evil Ferret Overlord would be awake as yet, so he decided to find out what was for breakfast. Keeper was greeted enthusiastically by Phillipe, the Evil Ferret Overlord’s personal chef.
“Heylo keeper! How is.”
“Hungry. What’s for breakfast?”
“Eggums. Has bacons and fruits if wants. Is melonfruit.”
“Eggs and melon will be fine, thank you. Is the EFO awake?”
“Yes, Roy. I’m afraid so. Your singing woke Alter, and she began to scurry about, and woke me. The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord turned to see a bleary-eyed anthropomorphic ferret standing behind her, with a rather more ordinary mustelid perched on her head.
“Heylo, Evil Ferret Overlord. I makes bacons to crunch.”
“Hooray!” said the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Alter wants?” Philippe asked, pointing to the ferret perched on top of the head of the Evil Ferret Overlord. Alter lunged, landing on Philippe’s shoulder. She eagerly took a piece of bacon from Philippe’s hand. Philippe then put a hard boiled egg on the floor for her to play with.
“Oh, Roy?” The Evil Ferret Overlord said, ever-so-sweetly.
“I’m not called Roy.” Keeper grumbled.
“I call you Roy,” said the Evil Ferret Overlord, “and my suit has not been polished since yesterday.”
“This does not bode well for me,” said keeper. “Any chance I might finish my breakfast first?”
“A small chance, at least. Shall we have our breakfast in the sitting room?” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Very well.” Said Roy. Rosencrantz, the shorter of the Evil Ferret Overlord’s attorneys, had a bedroom between the kitchen and the sitting room. The overlord and her keeper stopped there on their way. The evil ferret Overlord hoisted the still sleeping Rosencrantz out of her bed, and carried her with them into the sitting room. She set her down in front of a velvet cushioned easy chair, then took a seat herself, resting her feet on Rosencrantz’s back.
“Ooof!” came a protest.
“Morning, Rosie.” Said the evil ferret overlord, brightly. “Bacon?” She reached down to offer a piece to her most unwilling footrest.
“Hmmph.” Said Rosencrantz, taking the bacon and beginning to nibble slowly and groggily at it.”
“For heaven’s sake, use a napkin at least.” Protested Keeper. She tossed a cloth napkin over to Rosencrantz, who set her bacon down upon it.
“Sleep well, Rosie?” asked the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Mmmhmm.” Murmured the still-drowsy attorney.
“My attorney has a way with words, doesn’t she?” The Evil Ferret Overlord said. The group finished their meal in silence, before returning to the Galley to deposit their dishes and retrieve Alter Ego, who had tired of her egg, and had begun batting around a melon baler. The Evil Ferret Overlord scooped her up and returned the melon baller to Philippe. She left him with instructions to send supplies of food to the dungeons, and return Rosencrantz, who had fallen back to sleep on the floor, to her bed. Then, the Evil Ferret Overlord turned to her Keeper. “Now then, about that polishing.”
“Bugger. I was hoping you had forgotten.”
“I never forget about my polish.” The Evil Ferret Overlord grinned.
They returned Alter to her tunnels, via a catch in one section. She scurried through the castle, back to her ferrety suite to begin her morning nap. The two more humanoid figures then began their journey to the chamber where the polish was kept. The castle was outfitted with elevators of the nifty glass variety that allowed the occupants to look at their surroundings as they rose or descended, and had soothing plinkity piano music piped through, but generally speaking, the keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord had a preference for the stairs, which were winding, and featured wrought iron railings. His rationale was that should anyone be watching, it was a far more dramatic sight to see him stomping about on a spiral staircase than riding around in glass boxes. Besides, he liked the way the heels of his boots sounded, pounding against the gray stone.
The evil ferret overlord waited at the top of the stairs for her keeper to open the door, which he did, wondering if he ought to let it close, just before her tail was all the way through, but then he noticed that the evil ferret overlord’s fangs were looking especially sharp and shiny that morning. It was more than a fair bet that she was eager for a chance to use them, and quite frankly, the keeper of the evil ferret overlord was not the least bit eager to add another set of puncture marks to his collection. The evil ferret overlord lowered herself onto a wooden bench, which was located below the shiny window. Another, more ordinary window let the light in, to reflect upon the shiny window and create a kaleidoscopic effect. The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord made his way tentatively across the stone floor, taking care to avoid the slick spots caused by spills, which occurred when the Evil Ferret Overlord became fidgety. He climbed up the high shelves and retrieved a can of Overlord’s Choice Deluxe Ego Polish: Delighting the EFO for a significant amount of time. He descended the shelving unit, holding the can in his jaws, and returned to where the overlord was seated under the shiny window. The keeper opened the can of polish, and set to work, beginning with the Evil Ferret Overlord’s outstretched feet, the claws of which, the Keeper felt were badly in need of some trimming. But, once again, he noted the gleam in her fangs, and thought better of saying so.
“Ahh, that’s more like it.” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord. “So, how was your morning row?”
“Well…” said keeper hesitantly.
“Out with it, Roy.” Demanded the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“It seems, EFO, that the villagers have invented a new game. They’re very excited about it.
“Oh dear.” The villagers were known to invent terribly foolish pastimes, which always wound up somehow irking the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“Quite. It seems they have taken to forming small bands of eight or ten large men, who run headlong into each other, all over an oblong sort of ball, which one group or the other must get to a line on the ground. They call it a sport, and the villagers seem to have great personal stake in the outcome.”
“As long as it’s porterhouse.” The overlord shrugged.
“No, the other kind of stake.”
“The Dracula kind?” The Evil Ferret Overlord suddenly had an unnerving gleam in her eye. Either that or it was a trick of the multicolored light. It was probably that. One of the green facets was casting a reflection in just about the right spot. “That sounds good to me. If one team loses, the other team can impale them. Literally.” By this time, she was practically bouncing with glee. This was of course, a distressing sight. Generally speaking, ten-foot-tall anthropomorphic ferrets should not bounce. Also, this action threatened to upset the polish.
“Hold still. You’ll upset the polish.” Said Keeper, as if on cue. (Funny, that.) “and no, it’s not the Dracula kind. It’s the investment kind.” The Keeper crossed the room and dragged over a ladder, to better reach the entirety of the Evil Ferret overlord’s suit, which was, of course firmly attached to the Evil Overlord. As far as the occupants of the castle knew, no one had ever seen her without it, and the EFO intended to keep it that way. She was close to her minions and fond of them in a way, but certainly not that close, and definitely not that fond, and absolutely, positively not in that way. Besides, smiting was a far more entertaining pastime than wooing, and more often than not, it yielded more shiny surprises, like a firecracker down an unruly villager’s trousers. Surprise!
“You missed a bit.” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord.
“I did no such thing. Where?”
“Right down there, by my tail.” The Overlord pointed to a spot near her posterior. She wasn’t one for romance, but she was also not above making her minions feel uncomfortable. Fortunately for The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord, but slightly disappointingly for the Evil Ferret Overlord herself, there was a knock, three times on the door (not the ceiling. Only the overlord could reach that high, and she found that doing so was one of those unnecessary effort things.)
“Enter. For the love of shiny objects, enter right now!” pleaded the Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord. The person who had been heretofore on the other side of the heavy wooden door pushed it open and stepped through the doorway, so that the person in question was now on the other side of the door.
The person in the aforementioned question turned out to be none other than the Evil Ferret Overlord’s taller and more masculine attorney cum household accessory, Guildenstern.
“Morning, Gil!” the Evil Ferret Overlord greeted, “Keeper tells me the villagers have invented a new game. Best of all, the winning team gets to stab the losers with wooden stakes!” The poor attorney looked suddenly pale and alarmed.
“I said no such thing.” The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord sighed. “I told you, it’s emotional stakes, not wooden.”
The overlord’s face looked crestfallen, as only the face of a disappointed ferret can. “You mean, there is no stabbing involved?”
“None that I saw.”
“What sort of pastime is that? That barely qualifies as a hobby, let alone a sport. Where’s the bloodshed and mayhem?”
“It’s the sort of hobby a villager would find enjoyable, I suppose, EFO.” The keeper guessed.
“Speaking of the villagers” said the attorney Guildenstern, jumping at the only chance he might get to speak, “you did get the message about the exciting breakthrough one of their scientific types has made?”
“Messages? I’m a ten foot tall anthropomorphic ferret, not a secretary. Messages are for other people to get and read to me. Right Roy?”
“Do I look like a secretary to you?”
“Hmm…no.” Before the Keeper or Guildenstern could protest, the Evil Ferret Overlord had snatched Guildenstern’s glasses, pen and legal pad and adorned the Keeper with them. “That’s better. Now you look like a proper secretary.” Said the Evil Ferret Overlord. Keeper and Guildenstern were not remotely amused.
“They’ve created some sort of spirit contacting device.” Guildenstern said.
“Hm. Weird. I’ll investigate that and the pastime thing after naptime.” After naptime was when just about everything got done around the castle. Naptime started immediately after polishing time and lasted anywhere from half an hour to well into the evening, depending on the arbitrary whims of the Evil Ferret Overlord. On this particular day, naptime fell somewhere in between the two, allowing just enough time for the Evil Ferret Overlord to have a most unusual dream. Many people were previously unaware that physical manifestations of abstract psychological concepts could sleep, let alone have dreams, but the Evil Ferret Overlord did on a very regular basis. Durring this particular dream, the overlord and her various relatives (who had been conveniently conjured up by the Evil Ferret Overlord’s subconscious) were visited by a long-dead rich uncle. That is, the overlord liked to tell people he was a rich uncle. He actually had very little income to his name, save for a prodigious collection of beer cans, all of which the overlord had inherited at the time of his death, on account of her deep and abiding enthusiasm for all things shiny. The uncle also had his own vehicle, a shiny white pickup truck. In the dream, the truck had mysteriously rematerialized in a shopping mall parking lot, and the man himself, beer gut and all, had rematerialized shortly thereafter, thoroughly confusing everyone involved.
“Weren’t you dead?” the Evil Ferret Overlord asked.
“Umm…not quite.” The formerly dead uncle explained. “I actually faked my own death to help you guys out.”
“How was your dying helpful exactly?” One of the teenaged relatives asked.
The previously deceased, theoretically wealthy uncle smiled. “Remember how a bunch of you had really lousy grades that year?” The ones to whom the memory was applicable nodded, including the Evil Ferret Overlord, who had really only been interested in the parts of the school day which involved marveling at her own accomplishments. “Didn’t you notice how they suddenly improved right after I died?” the uncle continued.
“So you actually blackmailed our teachers?”
“Pretty much.” Everyone laughed in the general fashion of a cheesy television ending. Of course, the explanation made no sense whatsoever, but logic was only just barely a factor of the goings-on in the Evil Ferret Overlord’s waking world, let alone the world of her dreams. The Evil Ferret Overlord awoke, feeling rejuvenated and rather cheerful, all things considered. Still, she made a special little trip to visit her beer can collection, just to be sure. It was intact, and shiny as ever, to her relief.
The Evil Ferret Overlord retrieved her royal keeper from the study and made the announcement that it was time to begin the trek to the woodland village. While the Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord went to change into suitable marauding attire, the Evil Ferret Overlord made a side trip to the Alter Suite to check whether Alter was napping, eating, or otherwise indisposed. When the Evil Ferret Overlord found that her small, fuzzy counterpart was none of the above, she picked her up and placed her between her own ferrety ears. Alter loved marauding trips.
It should be mentioned that the Evil Ferret Overlord had managed to get through at least two doors without the aid of her Royal Keeper. This was because of a key castle feature, only recently installed. Several of the key doors had been made automatic and overlord accessible. To work them, the Evil Ferret Overlord had only to press a small button similar to the ones found on automatic wheelchair-access doors. The major difference was that instead of the ubiquitous symbol of the androgynous figure in the wheelchair, these buttons featured miniatures of the Evil Ferret Overlord’s portrait.
Keeper, Overlord, and Overlordly (a perfectly legitimable word in the realm of the Evil Ferret Overlord) Alter Ego reunited in front of the drawbridge of the castle. The Royal Keeper of the Evil Ferret Overlord had changed into a tunic, slacks, a black, swishy cape, and a fresh top hat. He also carried a dapper black cane, which doubled as a scabbard. The Overlord had opted for her standard suit, riding boots, a leather whip, and a shiny silver satchel in which alter could ride. The Evil Ferret Overlord examined the chariot the keeper had brought out for their journey.
“You do realized that we are living in a post-industrial society?” she asked
“Of course, EFO.”
“And we have cars and a public system and helicopters at our disposal?”
“Well yes, that is certainly true.”
“So, why the chariot.”
“Dramatic flair!” said the keeper, triumphantly. He had a point there. The chariot was a shinier, more dramatic sight than any helicopter. From the brass-plated wheels to the harnesses on the Clydesdales, to the bright gold-leaf flames emblazoned on the side, it was just the sort of thing in which an Evil Ferret Overlord, and her keeper, and her Royal Keeper, and sable coated quadruped alter ego would look stately and fearsome while riding.
“Giddyup!” Cried the Evil Ferret Overlord, cracking her whip with unbridled ferrety glee. As misfortune would have it, the Clydesdales were of the expertly trained variety (actually, the EFO had bought them from the local equivalent of Anheuser-Bush, as an homage to her dead uncle.), and they began to trot off across the drawbridge. The Evil Ferret Overlord had to run, pulling her keeper behind her. She took a flying leap, and the entire party landed with a thud in the seat.