here's mine, a little piece of humorous (i hope) historical (kind of) fiction.


-----------------------


A Moat of Entrails

(Transcript of John the Wise's address to the Fifth Committee on Anti-Barbarian Measures. Middle Summer, Anno Domine 862)


Elders, leaders, warriors, and fellow landsmen. I have been called here today to answer for my part in the minor disaster that befell our village yesterday. Now, please, there is no need to call for my head. I understand that we are all feeling somewhat upset after the latest barbarian raid. But let me assure you that when I guaranteed that the barbarian invaders would not penetrate our walls this time, I did so with only the best of intentions.

The old ways of fighting and praying simply were not working. I alone had the insight to devise a new way to counter the menace. So, if I am guilty of anything, it is of being too visionary! Gentlemen, please sit down and hear me out! Now, I hope you all agree that my idea was a good one.. Wait! Sit down for just one second please! Listen, had I more warning of the invasion, certainly my Moat of Entrails© plan would have worked splendidly. As it was, we simply did not have enough time for the moat to fester thoroughly. Not even a rabid barbarian would have driven head-long into a sufficiently putrid Moat of Entrails!©

As to the rumors floating about, let me assure you good sirs that I was at the battlements, so I will address each slanderous rumor in detail. It is true that the gate was unable to be closed because a sheep carcass had jammed the pulleys. And yes, it is true that the sheep carcass which jammed the gate (thereby allowing the invaders direct access to the town) was accidentally placed too close to the gates' pulleys and weights by my team of "entrails removers". But, look at it this way; had the gate been down, another long and costly siege would have ensued, after which we would have had to surrender anyway. So this was actually not such a bad thing, was it?


*A small ruckus ensues. Some chairs are broken.


OK, wait! Calm down! Please, I have five minutes! I have been given five minutes! Allow me my five minutes! Duncan the Fair, put your bow away! Thank you. Now, for the other rumors. It is wholly FALSE that I am in league with the Devil. I am also NOT in league with the attackers. And while it may be true that the barbarians became even more fearsome and berserk after wading through a Moat of Entrails©, the barbarians did not, I repeat, did NOT use the fairly fresh entrails as a snack after plundering our village. Nor did the enemy leader thank me personally for "providing his men with a hearty meal after a long day of raping and pillaging," as Sir Philip the Honest has accused. That is simply ludicrous.

In summation, I believe we all have to stop pointing fingers and start dealing with the current situation. And for this, we will need men of ideas, such as myself. Our good village is beginning to reek from the Moat of Entrails©, which is now becoming properly putrid. No! Wait! Sit down, sit down! I volunteer myself! See? Yes, I volunteer MYSELF and my team to cover-over the moat. However, it will likely take several days to finish the job unless some of you are willing to lend a hand. No, no! I still have two minutes! Sit down, please! Thank you. We also need to find a new source of meat, as all of the sheep were slaughtered for the Moat of Entrails©.


*A second small ruckus ensues. Insults are hurled with abandon. A few bones are broken.


Wait! Wait! Sheathe your swords gentlemen! Please! Violence won't solve anything! Duncan, would you please put your bow away? Come on! Look, none of you had any great ideas, did you? If you are all so quick to blame the one man that actually thought of something, what about yourselves, huh!? Oh, what's that? Say again? Oh. Well... yes... maybe... I suppose, in retrospect, perhaps we should have tried Duncan's idea of a flaming moat. But, gentlemen what's done is done. We can't dwell on what might have been. Duncan! Again with the bow!? That's the third time now! For a man known as "the Fair", you are not giving me much of a chance here, are you sir?


*A general pandemonium ensues. Order is restored after much furniture is thrown. John the Wise is allowed to finish his address after being cut down from a makeshift gallows.


In the name of God, I am certainly glad all of you good men finally came to your senses! As is the case, I feel I should conclude my address at that. I trust that your fair judgement will see that placing blame is NOT in our common interest. I thank you for your time. Oh, and by the way, our homes will likely need a good washing, since the barbarian invaders tracked and dripped a good deal of the Moat of Entrails© in with them. Now, this would normally be women's work. But, seeing as the barbarians took most of our women.. Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Sit down! Wait! No, no, no, let me finish! No, no! Wait just one second! No!! Hey, stop!! *URRRK!!!*


*Address abruptly concluded.


-----------------------