The Dead Queen
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"The Queen is dead! The Queen is dead," shouted the paperboy as he ran through the streets. Molly gasped, then screamed out of the kitchen window, "Boy, bring me a copy!" The boy turned to her and ran to the porch as Molly rushed to the front door!
Molly swung the door open and grabbed a copy from the boy's bundle. She flopped the paper upwards in the morning breeze and groaned with a tremble in her voice, "Oh my lord it is true. Oh my lord...our...Queen...is....DEAD!"
"That'll be ten bits of bronze," the boy exclaimed as he held out his left hand." Molly reached in her apron pocket and slammed a handful of coins in his hand. The boy looked at the money and shouted, "Thank you, thank you very much as he ran off with his papers, shouting the news about the Queen.
Molly thought about what she had just done and shouted for the boy but he had disappeared down the street, quickly. She had given him far too much money but the haunting headline quickly took all of her attention as she closed the door.
The kingdom of Pompynutty was buzzing. Neighbors were crying, screaming and consoling each other. Molly sat at the kitchen table, read the story, looked at the pictures while wiping tears from her eyes. She spent the entire day hugging neighbors who felt just like her. They were wallowing in the sadness of the Queen's death.
It was 5:35 in the afternoon when her husband, Freddy came home from work in the mines. Freddy walked in, covered in dust as usual as Molly ran to him, screaming, "Have you heard? The Queen is dead!"
Freddy flopped his lunch bag and helmet on the kitchen counter and calmly said, "Yes, what's for supper?" Molly, with a stunned look on her face, angrily growled, "Supper, supper! Our beloved, angelic, her majesty has passed and you...you ask me about your supper!"
Freddy sat at the table, slumped over from being tired, put his hands under his chin and said, "Beloved, angelic? You were calling her a stinking harlot this morning as you buttered my muffins."
Molly stomped her foot and squalled loud, "She...wasn't...dead...this ...MORNING!" Freddy thought for a moment, grinned and said,"So...our beloved Queen went from being a stinking live harlot to a dead angel in (looking at his watch)less than ten hours?"
If looks could kill, Freddy would be dead as Molly grumbled, "Get your own damned supper at the pub. Most of us Pompynuttians have COMPASSION for OUR QUEEN!"
Freddy sighed, picked himself up from the kitchen chair and headed out the door. Molly didn't speak to him for three days. Freddy endured a silent hell and meals at the pub. She busted a plate in the sink when she heard Freddy talking with his friend, Max on the phone. Freddy was saying,"Yip...thats what it was...a methane explosion in the palace sewer. The ol bat got blew up by her own royal dung."
Poor Freddy had gotten surprised by a clump of cat poop toothpicked on top of his corned beef and pumpernickel sandwich in his lunch the next day.
Molly was determined to attend the funeral procession on Willowy Street. She made Freddy dress in his best suit and go with her.
The sun was shining bright that afternoon as the crowds lined the street to mourn the Queen. Freddy stood next to Molly as she wept when the beautiful, flower covered funeral carriage went by. Freddy began to feel bad for not being more sensitive towards Molly.
Freddy gently put his arm around her and sofly said, "I should have had more respect for our dear Queen Fritterana. I'm sorry Molly for being such a rude fool."
Molly sniffled, wiped her nose with her handkerchief and said,"No...no...Freddy. You were right. She was a bit of a stinking harlot...but...she was our stinking harlot." Molly began squalling in tears!
Freddy, with a blank stare, dropped his shoulders...then his head. He sighed and whispered to himself, "Crap."
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© 2018 Tom Cornett