THE MERCY OF THE KING

The high priest turned to the gathered masses. "The defendant stands accused of having led an illegal rebellion, and disrupting the flow of the King's grain wagons." Tomas attempted to shout out a word of protest, but was easily drowned out by the delirious roar of the crowd. "I turn now to our most honest and good king for judgment. Who is such a good king, yes? Who's a good king?" The King sat atop his throne, his head wobbling on his underdeveloped neck. A long string of drool dripped from his lower lip as he babbled softly. I would have never gotten a fair trial, not from this court mused Tomas grimly. The High Priest held up a hand for silence, and reached beneath his robes. From one of the many folds, he pulled out a silver keychain, which he then swiftly held before the King's eyes, tinkling and jangling merrily. "Glagloo?" asked the King, who then giggled uncontrollably. "Awwww," replied the crowd, delighted by the King's naked joy. "We shall heed his words! The punishment shall be...death, by stoning! Thus spake the King! All hail!  all hail King Baby!" he shouted, but the people drowned him out with their gleeful noise. The priest cleared his throat and tried again, croaking out at the top of his lungs "ALL HAIL THE KING! ALL HAIL KING BABY!" And as the crowd exulted, Tomas wept a silent tear at the doom that had befallen him. The rebellion was certainly doomed now, all at the soft and unlined hands of the infant king.