Parables of Samos — The Jester King (Chapter IV)

“Do you remember? Do you?”

The Opening

Abediah, the Jester King, lived on the most distinguished and honourable Carnival Island. This island resided in the middle of the Purple Skies, filled with marshmallow clouds, to the North of The Palace of Desire. On Carnival Island, there were rides that would satisfy even the God of Dissatisfaction, so imagine the enjoyment that awaits our three little cherubs. Abediah was the God of Jests, and his heavenly talent was the art of disguise.

With his disguise, he would venture into worlds unknown to most Gods and help rebuild the stature of his fallen brothers and sisters. These unfortunate souls dug themselves so deeply into the grounds of misery, that he would need to attend to each individually until their lesson was learned. With his vast and ridiculous imagination, he could disguise both himself as another, and whichever world he deemed

worthy of his relentless foolery. His ability to morph worlds into his own expression warranted his kingship, and he would rule over and guide all the Gods who practiced the jest of comedy.

However, Abediah was a busy king, and whenever he wasn’t in his glorious circus tent embroidered with silk and garnet, he would be away on his missions to help raise the All- Father’s fallen children from the darkness they inflicted upon themselves. Fortunately, Abediah forged a raven from himself, to express his participation in the underworlds, wherein he would be the messenger between the All-Father and his children. This delightful raven was of a white breed, to express the Jester King’s transparent nature, with dark claws to express his eternal gallantry, which allowed him to fall to the lowly heights of his brothers and sisters, and return without so much as a scratch.

Abediah called his raven Atlas and commanded all its ventures to uncover new worlds, where those who forgot our Father’s loving nature seemed to dwell. Atlas would bring back amazing stories of all that it could find, and Abediah would set out to disguise himself within its discarded territory until his mission was complete.

The Preparation

“Come forth, and kneel to greet our glorious King!” One of the Jester King’s servants announces to our godly adventurers. “What brings you nigh our castle high? For whom is such a visit required? Cast down all magical charms and enter at your own demise! For they who enter shall unleash the eternal wrath of His Majesty, and unto them an eternity of suffering…” The servant stares at our Samos, Marqus and Madera before letting out a maniacal laugh. Suddenly, the short legs of what seemed to be a pitiful servant grew to twice their size. Its muddled hair became of golden strands and all its wretched clothes appeared to be of silk and satin.

“Look at your expressions! What a ruse, ha! Come forth and kneel? Buy me dinner first, won’t you? You should’ve seen the look on your faces! How was my disguise? It’s something I’m working on for my next mission. Some joker over in the Realm of Comedy is making a fool of himself, how dare he steal my thunder? My thunder? Bolton, The God of Lightning gave it to me himself! Ah! Metaforeas! How are you, brother? Almost didn’t see you there, what with all your empty expressions, you’re as good as unseen! You never were a fan of my jests, though it didn’t help that your fairy wings upheld a grander laugh than any of my measly jokes!”

Metaforeas bares a chuckle, “Oh, Abediah, is everything a joke to you? I wouldn’t have it any other way! That disguise didn’t fool me one bit, but I’m sure my entourage is befuddled with confusion. You’ve really done up the place, huh? The walls are red and white, and little figurines of carousels and horse-drawn carriages are all over the place, do you think you could disguise yourself as someone more original, or is this all you’ve got?”

Abediah giggles, “Metaforeas, The God of Misplaced Wit! What did I say about saying my name aloud? Ugh, you’re so annoying! Nevertheless, nice to have you back, brother! Now correct me if I am mistaken, but is that Marqus? My god, it is! How are you, soldier? You must introduce me to your friends, but first, inwards we go!” The five Gods enter The Castle’s Courtroom. The Jester King sits upon the magistrate’s bench, and our adventures spread themselves around the public gallery.

“Order! Order in the court! I’ll have one Adam’s Apple and a basket of Eve’s Elderberries. What are you having Metaforeas?” Abediah bangs the gavel as he cackles with glee. “Very good, Abediah. Lest this meeting be adjourned, shall we begin?” Metaforeas remarks. “Surely, brother!” Abediah continues, “Good Heavens, Gods and Goddesses. Calling the case of the Gods of The Pink Room versus the entirety of God-Kind. Are both sides ready?” Confused, Samos, Marqus and Madera all respond, “Yes?”

“What is this?” Samos interjects, “Is this another one of your jokes? You’ve yet to address either one of us, let alone the problem at hand!” Abediah sneers at Samos, “The problem here… is you! But first, we must attend to the ridiculous case of Marqus and The Stick of Slapstick. Marqus, will you please approach the stand and state your oath to fairly try the case before this court, and that you will return a true verdict according to the evidence and the instructions of the court, so help you, God?”

“I do?” Marqus hesitates. “Without further ado, please state your case to the court jester.” Abediah concludes while Marqus builds upon what courage he has left to speak against our Samos. “Your Honour, my brother, Samos, has undergone some severe health issues that hath blinded him from the truth. These health problems include an ever-increasing belief that he is the chosen one. He who shall find the most worthy of Gods to sit beside our Father’s throne. The credibility and accuracy of these claims are thus far unknown, and eternally vague. As well, his attitude and tenure towards this ridiculous situation is bringing upon Madera and myself a great deal of distress.”

“What frighten’s me, Your Honour, is that while his claims may be laid on truthful grounds, the path on which he seems to travel tends to be a dangerous road for not only himself but all of whom he passes along the way. For example, before this venture that has only proven to be unfortunate in its nature, Samos bestowed upon me the magic of belief and convinced me that the All-Father had requested that I destroy the divine token you yourself had lain upon me some eternities ago. Unfortunately, the Stick of Slapstick is nowhere to be found and I am left completely void of any of your magic. My words are no longer jolly nor compelled with wit.”

“Your Honour, it would be beneath me to ask of you to once again bestow upon me your greatest weapon. However, I find it completely necessary, and if it so pleases the court, that you convince my brother of the harmful nature of his harmful nature before it bares too late. I would like to call a witness to the stand. Madera of The Pink Room.”

“Very well.” Abediah calls Madera to the stand. “Please sit, raise your left hand. Do you swear that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court jester shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God? And shall I add that in these courts it is by law that all linguistic inclusions and therefore synonyms of the word ‘nothing’ shall be taken literally, and not metaphysically, or are you well aware of the constitution of the Jester’s Court?”

Madera sits, “Your Honour, I do. Furthermore, I am well aware of the constitution of the Jester’s Court. I just think it’s funny how Samos chose Marqus in his quest to find a being who he thought was capable of hellish capacity. Does he think I am unable to withstand his foolish bouts of magic? Ugh, it’s so whatever. Nevertheless, I bring myself forth as a witness to the stand and admit the wrongdoings of Samos unto Marqus. He totally convinced him to rid of his Stick of Slapstick… it was crazy!”

“Thank you, Madera, I appreciate your honesty and forthcomings regarding the case of Samos versus Marqus, and I just love that dress! Where did you get it?” Abediah flicks his wrist with a smirk on his face. Madera blushes and responds, “Oh, my God! I got it on sale at the Gullible & Glamorous pop-up boutique, it’s placed just outside your castle! Although I don’t know why it was on sale, I paid triple its original price, but I just had to have it!”

“Wonderful! Please return to the public gallery. Marqus and Samos, you’ve got quite a bright one on your hands! Samos, come and state your case against Marqus.” Samos confidently walks up to the stand, “I plead guilty, and find no shame in my shameful act towards my brother, for my intentions were pure and filled with love. I needed to delve into the deepest depths of Hell, and how could I attend such a travesty with a perfect record? Though it is unfortunate that Marqus was the victim, surely we are all victims of your unruly jests and persistent comments, Your Honour.”
Abediah smiles at Samos, “Oh! A feisty one, fun!”

The Storytelling

“Court is adjourned.” Abediah adjourns. “Marqus, your brother has pleaded guilty in your favour, though the unfortunate truth you are yet to discover will be quite troubling to your temperament! Look behind you, you buffoon!” Abediah chuckles as our Marqus turns around to find what he believed had vanished. “What…. What is th-” Marqus is confused as he grips the Stick of Slapstick and draws it from its scabbard. “I thought I destroyed it? I do not understand, was it behind me all along? In a place, I could not see? How could I have been so foolish? I don’t understand, Your Honour. I… I don’t understand. It’s as if I am trying to understand nothing at all, it is impossible!”

“You clown! Samos did not convince you to destroy your staff, he convinced your sully sense to believe that he convinced you to believe that he did! What a ruse! A round of applause for the most ridiculous and perspicuous Samos! Who’s clapping? Next round’s on me, I swear!” Abediah, Samos and Madera all let out a snicker, while Metaforeas rolls his eyes to the back of his head. “Samos, you always surprise me with your capacity to frustrate. I will get you back for this, count my words.” Marqus insists.

“One, two, three, four, five… care to explain what there is to gain from counting such empty sounds? I say, how plentiful you are with words, yet how few are those who understand a thing you say! Are you blaming me for losing your little stick? You should be used to that by now!” Samos laughs, which surprises all the Gods, for he hadn’t cracked one single smile ever since his gruelling visit to The Room of Much Torture.

“Well, it seems you have some wit after all, beneath that ridiculous guise of evil. Samos, my delectable delight, do you think your brother deserved the deceit you’ve imposed on his behalf? Or do you think it unfair, that he fell victim to his weakness?” Abediah interrogates our Samos. “It is truly fair,” Samos responds, “oh Jester King, for if a God could bare to fly, would Heaven be so high above? Our destiny is clear in sight, but what we lack is what we lack. If a God refused their wings, would they fall into Hell, or fall from Heaven? A majestic riddle, to rid you of your doubts regarding my complexion. Care to untangle its enigmatic allure?” Abediah laughs, “Care to untangle mine?”

An immediate outburst of ridiculousness gushes from the jester’s smile and morphs every corner and crevice of the courtroom into what seems to be a teeny, tiny room for interrogations. A room fit for two, and a table of course. “What just happened? Where did the others go?” Samos begins the interrogation. A smokey beret sits in place of Abediah’s former crown, and a mugwort filled pipe protrudes his expressive lips.

“What others, oh forgetful one?” Abediah smirks as Samos’ gaze attempts to peek through the solid walls of its divine confinement. “Madera? Marqus? Metaforeas? Where art thou? Why can I not sense their presence? From what sorcery are these walls assembled? Why can my eyes not pierce their illusive demonstration? What have you done?”

Abediah continues to chew on his pipe, blowing smoke rings, knights and kings with angel wings. “Ah, you don’t remember me do ya, punk?” Abediah sneers at our Samos, “What are you playing at, young trouble maker? Who’s enigma are we untangling again? Yours or mine? Do you not see your brother? Do you not see your sister? Do you not see yourself?

“Do you not sense the whereabouts of Madera? The worrisome part of your soul that longs to stay humble and true? Perhaps, Marqus? The logical division of your central processing unit that refutes all self-gratifying missions and beliefs? Hm. What about yourself? Samos, the fragment of your fragile whole that needed the most attaining to? The reason you are here? The purpose for your visits? The meaning of this world? The crux of this joke? Do you remember? Do you remember?

Do you remember Samos? The lonely piece in an infinite puzzle, that didn’t want to play the part? The magnificent entertainer, who believed himself to be too magnificent to perform? The eternal forgetter, who could remember all else but himself? Do you remember who you are? Do you remember why you are here? Do you remember who I am? Do you remember where we are? You are Madera. You are Marqus. You are Samos. You are all of them. But… this Samos character you’ve found yourself entertaining, is the one we need to understand.

What are you trying to prove? Why have you forgotten? What do you believe is needed to be yourself? What do you believe is needed to be content? Why do you believe in things you know aren’t complete or true? Do you know who I am? Do you know why I am here? Do you know who we are? Would you like to know?”

In one moment, Samos remembers, “Oh.”

“I did it again, didn’t I?” Samos mumbles regretfully. “Okay. Take me back.”

The Punchline

“The insufferable parables were a brilliant addition, may I keep them?” You chuckle, and so too do the paintings that surround your paltry theatrics.

“It sure was a long while before we got to the point, wasn’t it?” The narrator sympathises with your nostalgic embarrassment. “Well, as long as we get to the finish line, right? Not like there’s a clock on this thing. How do we work towards a world with only answers?” You ponder.

“Rid yourself of all uncertainties, and get your wings off my couch. I just had it cleaned!” The narrator pleads in ridiculous despair, with tears welling from his eyes. “Where to now?” The narrator contradicts himself.

“I have a few things I need to work on, but I’m ready for the little leagues. Do I get to keep my team?” You ask your final question.

“You betcha. Here’s your new uniform, don’t wear it out too quickly, it can last you centuries. Welcome to the beginning of your never-ending story, punk.”