A Political Fairy Tale
“Once Upon A Throne”
© 2008 Linda McKinney All rights reserved.
Once upon a time, in a land called Draverb,
Her Royal Hineyness, The Duchess of Dupedumb, was heard.
She was next in line to inherit the Royal Throne,
the Throne of her predecessor, King Skattleboro, The Dreaded,
and she assumed the Royal Throne was a given.
After all, she had been raised, tutored, and groomed
by King Skattleboro, the Dreaded, to take over the Throne,
and it was just about time for her dreams to come true,
to make Her Royal Hineyness, The Duchess of Dupedumb,
The Great Queen of All Land, Taxes and The Throne.
The day was fast approaching and all was right with the world.
Her Royal Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb,
registered as one of The Throne’s Claimants,
knowing there were others,
but they had not been hand-picked by King Skattleboro,
so they stood little chance,
in the Duchess of Dupedumb’s eyes,
of ever attaining what was rightfully hers,
or of gaining a chance at the thing she wanted the most.
Her background didn’t matter because, after all,
she was Her Royal Hineyness, The Duchess of Dupedumb,
and she answered to no one, not even her amore.
She had studied under the tutelage of the “great” dreadful King,
and that was all that was required for her today,
“I’m ready to Rule My People!”
(and tax them, she thought, but never did say).
Yet, there was something troubling the Duchess of Dupedumb;
Something troubling stirring in the air.
Beyond the Great Divide was a voice crying out
and telling great truths about Her Royal Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb,
and some of the truths would not please.
With swiftness faster than lightning, and power greater than flood,
the news of the truths hit Her Royal Hineyness and drew her to her knees.
“Oh, no!” she cried, “The people are finding out and being reminded!”
She saw such fury that her eyes, they were blinded.
She pulled her hair and ripped her clothes,
pounded the ground with fists of fury.
“How dare she!?” She screamed
and moaned, “She shall pay!”
In the house of Mackenna,
an average house with a computer or two,
lived the Lady of the House, Lindalou.
She was a determined person with great strength of character
and principle no one could bend nor defeat.
But sweet of disposition to family and friends
and even though difficult, she stood till the end.
Lindalou knew of the Duchess’s ascension,
and knew it was wrong for the people of the land of Draverb.
The past was almost forgotten by most,
and the truth was ignored, or covered or stored,
and it was time to remind them,
and Lindalou had.
She worked diligently,
by day and by night,
and sometimes heard from others
whose memories were not so lax
and some who knew this, or that, or were aghast
that King Skattleboro, the Dreaded,
had chosen such a one
as this Duchess of Dupedumb, the un-brightest sun.
Growling and snarling, the Duchess of Dupedumb approached,
She stood on her tiptoes to look bigger and remote,
She puffed up her chest and her hair stood on end,
She threw open the door and knee did not bend,
“How dare she!” Her Hineyness did cry,
“How dare she!” she spit into the King’s eye!
“I’m ready to rule and I’m ready to spend.
I shall not be delayed, my will shall not bend!
I’m the one who was groomed with greatest of care and
When all’s said and done, I’m in great demand!
I care more for the earth than any I know;
I’m all for the trees and ready to show
That I love the poor earth and I care for it so,”
And here she sighed and shook with great rage,
“So why does she not want me to take to the stage!?”
King Skattleboro, the Dreaded, drew back with great fear
His hands shook a little as he reached for her, “Dear,
You must remember the people have choice,
And sometimes don’t choose the one with my voice.
They choose who they want to rule them,” and then
He flinched as her hands pushed him away,
“Dear, please, don’t give up today.”
He stood slowly up and his belly did jiggle,
“I’ll tell you a secret, it will give you a giggle.
There’s always the threat of a lawsuit or two.
The people must know they can’t bar you
From the Throne of Wundy, the Throne of your choice,
It’s not the biggest Kingdom, but it’s power and voice.
Dear Duchess of Dupedumb,” he sighed and reseated,
“Don’t you want to keep on believing,
That when I am gone, you’ll have great, great power,
You’ll live in resplendence and enjoy every hour?
Your work is not hard and you’ll be waited on,
And have secretaries and assistants to act as your pawns.”
Here King Skattleboro sighed, wiped sweat from his brow,
“Use the lawsuit and threaten her,
Be angry and forceful, and mention your family,
When you say that, support is from here and abroad.
Do not be afraid to lie through your teeth.
It’s been this way, Dear, since Thirteen-Nineteen,
The privileged and the few who make the most noise
About caring and sacrifice and giving of toys
Are the ones who will rule and that with iron hand.
And never mind man and rights and the like,
They’ll go quietly in and give up the right
To anything at all if you treat them as though
You belong where you want to be:
There on the Throne.”
Exhausted, and spent, King Skattleboro sat
And hoped that his words had quieted the cat.
As he watched her she stood, and though she said naught,
He thought he could hear the tone of her thoughts.
She’s thinking of what I have said,
and finds it true pleasing and it fills her head.
He smiled just a little, thinking ‘tis true,
I’m greater now than all of mankind,
I’ve said something smarter than she could e’er find.
And closing his eyes he leaned back on the Throne,
And, contented, and confident he started to whistle,
Until her voice, too close for comfort,
Came out with a shrill, “Well….. I’ll try it,
But, mind you, I’m angry; as angry can be,
I’ve never had anyone try to stop me!”
Her closeness he felt like the bait on a hook,
And scowling at him with that horrible look,
She said one more thing then turned on her heel,
“If this goes wrong, it’s with you I will deal!”
Three days went by and nary a word
From Her Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb was heard.
And then, with a cackle, a great scratchy thing,
Her voice through a loudspeaker did spring,
“Lindalou Mckenna, beyond the Great Divide,
I’m here to sue you and you cannot hide!
I’ll sue you for words you’ve proven were mine,
And I’ll prove to the world that I am divine!
The Throne of the Kingdom is rightfully mine
And no one will take it, or fill it but me
I’m owed it, by right, and by time and by thee!”
Her Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb said with glee,
“I’m suing you once, twice, maybe three!”
In her own little house, beyond the Great Divide,
Lindalou Mckenna just sat there and sighed,
“Oh, no, not again! This must stop at once,
For last time she threatened she proved herself dunce!
Her Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb, has said
O’er and o’er and o’er again,
That if I speak against her she’ll take all my land,
And everything else, if I have anything at all,
That she can carry, fetch, or with crawl.
I’m tired of this nonsense and I’m tired of her stench.
I wish back to her homeland would go the ol’ wench!”
And taking a page from her website did call,
Her Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb, over to sit by the wall.
“Read this and shut up,” Lindalou sternly said,
She held out the paper in front of Duchess’s head.
Her Hineyness, the Duchess of Dupedumb replied,
“Why should I read it? To prove that you lied?”
“No!” Lindalou said with reproach,
“To prove that with lawsuits you haven’t a hope
To shut me up then, now, or in future,
I’m not scared of you, or your old booster.
King Skattleboro, the Dreaded, is a has-been,
And, woman, so are you.
You don’t get the Throne,
It isn’t your due.
You don’t get it because of “all that you do.”
You must win the people, and win their votes, too.
It’s not just given, it’s earned with respect,
And it’s not a birthright, it’s of the elect.
I know you don’t understand the principles here,
So I’ll make this easy for you my dear.”
And with these last words,
And cast her ballot for the person of her choice,
And turned to the Duchess and with a soft voice,
Said, “Now go away and leave us alone.
We want no more of your “right to the Throne.”
You are not welcome to push us around
And none of us here wants to be ground
Into the dirt and bullied and such
As you like to do with your high muckety-mucks.
Leave us in peace, you wicked ol’ wench.
And take with you this lesson
Of Freedom and Rule
That, ‘We, the People’ are no longer your fools.”
Lindalou McKenna walked slowly away,
Not turning to look at the Duchess, nor say
Any kind word to soften the sting,
‘Twas not what was needed to end the whole thing.
A harsh word in due time is sometimes the best
Way to get rid of a foreign ol’ pest!
© 2008 Linda McKinney All Rights Reserved