I am the King!

Every king depicted on TV or the movies always has a scepter. It is always made from some shiny metal and usually adorned with jewels (a wooden scepter would just be lame).   The top of any scepter as I remember is wider and ends with a big ball (that may be to clunk unfavorable subjects over the head).

Like every King, I too, have a throne and a scepter! (but alas, only one subject).  Nobody else pays any attention to me, and her attention is mostly superficial.

The big recliner is my throne (she gets the smaller chair), and the TV remote is my scepter.            That’s right!  No scepter in history wields more power than my TV remote! Why I can determine in an instant what important royal programming we will watch! (not really.  She just goes and watches the bedroom TV).  Strangely, it also determines whether I get the cold shoulder in bed later that night (I’m sure it’s just a coincidence).  

But still, if she’s annoying me, I can make her disappear instantly!! All I have to do is turn to Judge Judy.  She despises that program.  I tried sports programming, but it turns out she enjoys most. (Go figure).

One day the king was watching royal programming, (ok listening with relaxed eyelids, all right.  I may have dozed off briefly).  When I awoke, I was tied up in the royal throne. She had used rope from my stash of junk to tie me firmly to my throne.

“What are you doing?” I protested, squirming in my royal seat.

“You are going to get what you deserve!”

“Really?  Has Naughty Nina come to give me a good spanking?” I asked, hopefully.

“You wish!  It’s my turn to have the remote, and we are going to watch what I want to watch!”

“No, no, anything but that, pleeaasse!  Besides I’m the king and this is my castle!”

“Yeah, well call it a revolt of the over-worked masses.”

“Technically you’re not a mass.  You’re only one person”

“You’re right, but I’m the one person who has the remote!”

I turned to the royal sentry and gave the order, “Attack.”

My miniature poodle, Cubby, lifted his head slightly then went back to dozing.  Suddenly organ music played from somewhere, lightning clapped and white smoke suddenly drifted inside our apartment!

A loud fiendish laugh echoed off the walls of the small room. (I’m sure the neighbors were going to complain).

“Sit back and relax dear.  First we are watching ‘The World’s Most Romantic Weddings’.

“No, anything but that!”

“Oh yes then . . . ‘Pastry Princess’.”

“What’s that?”

“A baking show.”

“No, please, anything but baking.”  I’m struggling vigorously in my bonds.

Then thunder claps again! (which is strange ’cause we are indoors).  The strange organ music continues. Additionally, I am concerned about the creepy fog inside as well. I am not sure how fog can only exist inside one apartment, especially when it is sunny outside.

She turns to me, her eyes glowing green. “Oh, there’s more.  Ha ha haa haaa!”  Her laugh echoes in my head.

“At eight we will watch, ‘I Hate My Boyfriend’,  followed by ‘Men Are Pigs!’.  And then, ‘All Guys are Cheaters’. Then at eleven there’s ‘What Not to Wear’ and ‘Style Divas’, and if we are still awake, it’s a ‘Decorating with Diane’ marathon.”

I barely survived screaming with madness! I bit my lip until it was bloody. Eventually exhaustion overtook me.

When I awoke there were nice doctors in white lab coats to help me. I told them that I was forced to watch programs about cakes and clothes. I could see the skeptical look in their eyes. They told me no man could survive from hours of that kind of programming! They didn’t believe me!  Then they gave me pills and took me back to a lovely room with a small bed and a roommate who is convinced he is a bird.

They think I am crazy, but in my bathrobe pocket lays the all powerful scepter. That’s right; the remote is still in my possession.

They tell me my remote was given to me when I arrived. They are insisting that it will not work here on their TVs, but, I know the truth!  My scepter is all powerful and I am the king! Every time I touch the scepter, I can feel the power emanating from it. They think I’m mad! But they don’t know that the scepter only talks to me!  It whispers to me in a tone nobody else can here. They are the crazy ones not me!