The knock on the door of the unlikely little shop was thunderous.
“Good afternoon, sir. How may I….”
“Remember me?”
“Certainly, sir. You are Galliga of Coyne, who set off to defeat the Dragon of Mount….”
“You sold me the magic tablecloth of Queen Clothilde.”
“True, sir. An excellent way to make sure you have enough provisions to cross the Fiery Wastes of….”
“I want my money back.”
“Well, technically, sir, it ceased to be your money when you took possession of the….”
“The magic tablecloth is supposed to provide a massive feast when I spread it out and say ‘Feed Me, Genie’: roast meats, sparkling wine, fresh bread, and everything I could desire. But it doesn’t work!”
“Well, sir, you understand the old legends….”
“You told me the old legends were true! But all I see when I perform the spell if a bowl of boiled beets!”
“You must understand, sir, that the legends always leave out the boring parts. Queen Clothilde’s seventh son, Frackward, rode out and battled the Goblins of the Green Pit, but his legend never mentions it took him nearly a year to ride that far to the south. The queen’s ninth daughter tricked the wizard Horripilis by climbing his castle wall, but nowhere does HER legend discuss the fingernails and toenails she cracked in the process. It’s a part of storytelling that balances events against the attention span of an audience.”
“My attention span is not extensive. Tell me at once what you’re talking about.”
“The legend of the magic tablecloth leaves out a great deal of biography. Queen Clothilde was the mother of thirty-seven heroic offspring, who went out and performed mighty deeds which freed people from suffering and extended the Queen’s realm. She raised them with as much care as she ruled her kingdom and formed her magic spells, and a little of her personality is included in each of her artifacts.”
“Meaning?”
“You WILL get your roasts and baguettes and delicate baked meringue desserts, sir. But you don’t get one mouthful of those things until you finish every bit of your beets.”
Blogsy Babbles 