The Epic of Karnes, or, Something Wicked This Way Comes
Finally, Karnes the Barbarian was to be Karnes the King.
After being born to the lowest peasantry, sold into slavery and having travelled the many lands of Albanon, from one great ocean to another, after tireless years of seeking his true path, Karnes had found a kingdom of his own.
Karnes was in his chamber awaiting the coronation. The morning sun shone down upon his kingdom, and into his royal quarters. His heart swelled as he sipped the last of his sweet , dark coffee, which had come imported from the hot desert lands of Baranuir to the south. He held aloft his enchanted sword Xarxis, and gazed upon himself in the Mirror of Agnor- a hard won trophy from the hideous Pits of Krundoon, where he had battled the She-Witch Garlac and her giant spider apprentice Fuzzlebutt the Wicked. Karnes set aside Xarxis, and his flagon of coffee as the faintest gurgle passed through his bowels. If that was nerves then so be it. He had faced many terrors in his life, and a slightest burbling in his gut was a small price to pay for his day of exaltation!
He watched in the mirror as maidens of the palace oiled his rippling muscles, and scented him with sweet perfumes. Another maiden combed his hair with a comb of the finest dragon bone- If she could only imagine the effort to escape the cave of the Great Red Dragon Wardick alive- let alone with dragon bones in tow! How these maidens would have loathed him as a mercenary so many years ago, but how they loved him now as their High King!
Karnes finished another flagon of coffee (so dutifully refilled by his many comely servants), when something occurred to him. Yes, he had slain the Ogres of Tangle’s Deep, yes he had tricked the Warlock King of Hellsbridge Meadows (Oh, if only the Warlock King had survived to see Hellsbridge meadows become “Hellsbridge Meadows Resort Developments Inc.”, Karnes’ sweet revenge would have been all the sweeter) , yes he had climbed the insurmountable peaks of Zordan, but at the moment, he thought to himself, after all his achievements “ I could really take a dump right now. That would totally smooth out this coronation”.
Alas, in came his Chancellor, his old friend, Greggg(g). “My Liege!”, said Greggg(g), “ The whole kingdom awaits you in the courtyard! Soon, as you stand on the balcony of your mighty castle, you will be crowned and be triumphant at last, the High King of Karnessia!”
“Truly!” said Karnes. “But first, I wonder if I have time…”. But there was no time, not for the poop he was beginning to think he really should have taken ten minutes ago. If this was to be his coronation, he thought to himself, it would’ve been nice to not have his mind on those Elven Bran Cakes he had this morning. “No matter,” he reassured himself, “this is the destiny I have sought my whole life!”.
Outside, on the vast palace balcony, he could see hundreds of thousands of his loyal subject gathered below in the grand courtyard of his noble city- his noble city, now known forever as Karnes City. Atop the balcony were his truest friends, his courtiers, all manner of things a slave boy could scarcely have dreamed while at the whips of his former masters- Masters long since slain and whose families Karnes had chased to the four winds. Oh, rest assured, he had heard the lamentations of their women. That’s one of those things that’s best in life when you’ve been in the barbarian business so long.
Karnes looked back over his shoulder to the antechamber. “I wonder”, he thought to himself “If I just slipped out for like, 5 minutes, the orchestra could play one more song, I could take that poo, and I could come back for the coronation and give it my full attention”. But no, the ceremonial torches had been lit, and a hush fell over the crowd. His thoughts turned briefly to the “Feast of A Thousand meats” last night. That was some party, but By Crom’s Beard, that was a lot of meat.
The Vice Regent came forward to address the throng below. An aging man who served so long as the steward of the crown, he spoke aloud, in a voice that carried clear as a mountain stream across the mighty plaza below. “Karnes!” he cried “You have defeated the great serpents, you have rid the land of the orc scourge, and you have won the hearts of the people! In you we have found the true king that prophecy has foretold for nigh on 1000 years!
The massive crowd burst into clamorous cheering and applause, but a hush fell upon them as the ceremony continued.
Karnes smiled benignly. He was starting to get the butt sweats. He hated the butt sweats. ‘Oh man, finally, King, oh man, I really hope this doesn’t take too long…”. He squeaked out a small but particularly rank fart. Yes, it was past time Karnes took that dump, but the timing was worse now than ever. To be frank, Karnes only got the butt sweats in two situations: When he was bitten and poisoned to within seconds of his mortal doom by Fuzzlebutt the Wicked, and when he really had to drop a log. Half the reason he had so thoroughly slain Fuzzlebutt and his master the She-Witch was because it made him so damn cranky to feel like he did when he was yearning to cop a squat. Slew? Slain? Oh, t’was truly poopin’ time, to be sure.
Karnes caught the eye of his great faithful friend Greggg(g), and gave him a pleading look and a quick head jerk towards the antechamber to indicate his plan. Greggg(g), having caught a whiff of the stale winds that emerged from the mighty barbarian’s toned buttocks, simply locked eyes with Karnes and shook his head ‘No!”.
Karnes watched as the 13 virgins bearing censers walked around him, all 37 times as required by the Prime Number Directive. Not even a baker’s dozen of hot, naked virgins could distract Karnes form the bloaty, tectonic feeling of a monstrous poop-mole bursting forth from his freshly dug butt burrow. Normally, 13 virgins would be need enough for Karnes to have to start thinking about something boring, but right now there was only one thing on his mind: his royal commode and the silken wipes which lay beside it. Possibly an old “Far Side gallery”.
The ceremony went on for hours, parade after unending parade of dignitaries, of oracles, of symbolic boulder tossing. Karnes was even feeling a bit half-hearted when it came time to be suspended in the royal silks and be reborn to the people, despite how fun that rigging looked.
Finally, as the ceremony wound to a close, Karnes was smiling widely, and proudly, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He took a fresh joy in the moment and knew that this would truly be one of his greatest days, the culmination of all that he had ever wanted, past, and present, and even future.
The Vice Regent held aloft his hands and once again the tremendous crowd below was rapt, hushed, and utterly silent.
“It is time” cried the Vice Regent. “Speak oh King!”
Karnes stepped forward to the precipice of the great balcony, the warmest smile on his face that any man could wear. He turned quickly back to his faithful friend Greggg(g) and gave him a look of supreme confidence. Greggg(g) was elated to see such a shift in Karnes’ mood.
“People of the High Kingdom of Karnessia!” called Karnes, his voice carrying more joy and pride than any they had heard for so long.
He continued. “About an hour ago, I, Karnes, your High King, shit my pants.”
From the crowd below came first, silence. Then, the sound of one lone man clapping in a slow rhythm.
Soon, like dominoes, a tremendous ovation burst forth from the gathered masses. Freedom, finally, for the citizens of Karnessia. The size and duration of the joyous celebration below was only very slightly overwhelmed , in the subtlest way, by a new and pervasive poop smell wafting up from the manifold denizens of Karnessia.
Freedom, freedom at last. Crom has given Karnessia a noble new leader, and we now, can poop our pants whenever.
And that’s why, on the festival of the summer solstice, you wash your damn hands before you eat the Feast of A Thousand Meats. Is that understood?
