Kingdom Idol

The stakes were high in this medieval version of American Idol, life or death, not merely a ticket to Hollywood. And you thought Simon Cowell was mean!

Kingdom Idol

 

         A number of villagers were waiting turns to perform their talent for the King. If the King liked a performer, it meant a professional contract in the King’s Royal Court. If you weren’t chosen, it meant execution. The stakes couldn’t be higher; a single audition could mean a future of luxury and kingly protection, but a flawed performance could result in decapitation. Simon Cowell had nothing on this King. He was a perfectionist with a critical eye for even the slightest of flaws. So everyone get ready: THIS… IS KINGDOM IDOL!

KING: Welcome, everyone. I’m looking forward to each of your performances and I hope to find new additions for my Royal Court! If we’re ready, let the juggler start us off.

JUGGLER: (steps forward with a bow) Hello, Your Highness.

KING: What will you be juggling, juggler?

JUGGLER: I will juggle four golden balls while standing on a larger golden ball.

KING: Excellent, my good man. Gold is my favorite color.

  JUGGLER: I chose it just for you, Your Lordship.

KING: (chuckling to his aide) They think sucking up helps.

KING’S AIDE: (smiles, whispering back) Indeed, sir.

(The juggler’s performance was spectacular. The golden balls were a blur, flying through the air, round and round. As the juggler stood perfectly balanced on the large golden ball, the blur of gold from the smaller balls amazed everyone present. Near the end of the act, one of the balls dropped to the floor, but the skill of the juggler was such that, if one hadn’t been looking closely, the mistake would have seemed part of the act. He ended with a back flip off the big gold ball, catching all four balls in his hands.)

KING: A near flawless performance, juggler, but as you know, imperfection is something I cannot tolerate in the palace. The dropping of the ball did not escape my notice. You performed valiantly, juggler, but I have to say: Guards…off with his head!

(The King’s guards marched the juggler away for decapitation.)

KING: Who do we have next?

KING’S AIDE: Your majesty, we have a woman who dances.

KING: Well, bring her in. I love to watch a woman dance. Gets me going, if you know what I mean.

KING’S AIDE: Yes indeed, Your Majesty.

DANCER: (curtsying) Thank you for the opportunity, Your Highness. Gracious King, I will perform a dance involving jumps, runs and spins.

KING: Very nice…begin.

(Leaping and twirling around the stage, the dancer had the King, his aide, the guards, and all the courtiers mesmerized. Running gracefully, her movements flowed to the syncopated rhythms of her own hand-claps. The dance incorporated somersaults, twirls, jumps and spins. Late in the routine during one of the twirls, the dancer had a tiny wobble, a split-second loss of balance. But the King, with his eagle vision, saw it.  The dancer had quickly righted herself and built to a superb finale involving a triple flip, sticking the landing perfectly.)

KING: Marvelous, dancer! I enjoyed it immensely. However, the wobble near the end did not escape my notice, lovely lady. I must say it ruined the performance for me. Guards…off with her head!

(As she was led away, the dancer remained a picture of gracefulness, skipping between the arms of the guards as her tears were falling.)

KING: And who is the last performer of the day?

KING’S AIDE: A jester, sir. He has performed at local clubs, and even made appearances on a regional talk show.  The Kingdom Times wrote that he was awarded funniest man in his village and a cinch to win a spot in your Royal Court.

KING: I’ll be the judge of that.

KING’S AIDE: As it should be, Your Highness.

KING: Begin, Jester.

JESTER: Thank you, Your Majesty, benevolent King of our people. In another land there was a King who was so disgustingly fat that the people of his Kingdom often wondered how he ever got out of his royal bed. How fat was he? He was so fat he broke several thrones. This occurred so often his servants constructed one made of marble. This fat pampered king was spoon-fed by dining room servants, bathed by washroom servants, and dressed by bedroom servants. He even had a servant who helped him go to the toilet!  How’d you like to have that detail…toilet servant?  ‘What’s your job? I help the King to poo!’

KING’S AIDE: (laughing) Very droll.

KING: (laughing) Jester, you are indeed a funny man, and you have shown confidence as well. I did not detect a single flaw in your performance, but I’m afraid you’re just not suitable for the Royal Court. So my decision is unfortunately a no. Guards…off with his head!

JESTER: But why, oh Wonderful King? Did you think I was talking about you? I was not, sir. I was talking about a fictional fat king. As everyone in the kingdom knows, you’re a fit and handsome specimen.

KING: I am indeed, jester.

(Guards haul the jester away as he squirms in their grip, continuing to beg the King)

JESTER: Please sir, your physique is kingly and magnificent…and I’m sure you do your own toileting.

KING: Halt, guards! Is this true, Jester? Your jests were about a fictional king?

JESTER: Absolutely, Your  Greatness.

KING: What is his fictional name? Where is his fictional kingdom?

JESTER: Uh…his name is…King…Wellstone, in the kingdom of… Espel…lacia.

KING: Hmmm…a little flimsy. I’ve not heard of this kingdom. But, I’ve changed my mind and I will spare your life. You will become a member of my Royal Court, with all the benefits that accrue to your new station. Welcome, jester.

JESTER: (crying as he was led away) Oh, thank you, thank you, so much! Thank you, Your Highness!

Later

KING’S AIDE: My Lord, what made you change your mind about the jester?

KING: I rather liked his idea about the toileting servant. And the jester would fit that bill quite nicely.

KING’S AIDE:  Well done, Your Highness.