The Ballad of Donnie Doofus and the Mayor of Frost West Virginia--Cyber Fiction

 

The Ballad of Donnie Doofus and 

the Mayor of Frost West Virginia

King Estmere, a man of discerning taste and questionable fashion sense, sent his brother, Donnie Doofus, to England to find a bride. Donnie, a man whose intellect was inversely proportional to his enthusiasm, set off with a jaunty air and a map that was suspiciously blank.

He arrived at King Adland's hall, a rather drafty affair, and found the king snoring peacefully on a throne made of hay bales. "Your Majesty!" Donnie boomed, startling the king awake. "My brother, King Estmere, seeks the hand of your daughter in marriage!"

King Adland, a man who preferred his eggs over-easy and his politics firmly entrenched in the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" school of thought, scratched his head. "Now, see here, lad," he rumbled, "my daughter, Quinone, is a fine lass, bright as a button and sheene as a freshly-waxed floor. But you see, the Mayor of Frost West Virginia, a fine fellow, mind you, though he does run a thrift store and delivers the local newspaper on Wednesdays, has also expressed an interest."

The Mayor of Frost West Virginia, a man whose political platform revolved around the importance of a good cup of coffee and the eradication of rogue squirrels, was, in King Estmere's eyes, a "foul paynim."

"We must see this Quinone," King Estmere declared, arriving with a retinue that mostly consisted of his pet goose, Gertrude. Quinone, resplendent in a dress made of old curtains and a tiara fashioned from bottle caps, was presented. "I will marry your brother," she declared, her voice ringing through the hall, "if he makes me Queen of his land and pledges his troth."

King Estmere, overjoyed, set off to gather his lords and knights, a collection of misfits that included a retired circus clown, a disgruntled badger, and a man who believed he could communicate with potted plants.

Suddenly, a herald arrived, breathless. "The Mayor of Frost West Virginia has arrived!" he gasped.

Panic set in. "Donnie," King Estmere cried, "we must devise a plan!"

Donnie, ever the strategist, stroked his chin. "Fear not, brother! My mother, a woman of the West, taught me the ancient art of tindlywinks."

"Tindlywinks?" King Estmere scoffed. "How will that help us?"

"Patience, brother," Donnie replied. "We shall disguise ourselves as minstrels. I shall be your boy, and we shall write on our foreheads, using the most potent tindlywinks, that we are the boldest men in Christendom."

And so, they arrived at King Adland's hall, King Estmere strumming a lute that sounded suspiciously like a cat being strangled, while Donnie, with a voice like a foghorn, sang off-key ballads. Quinone, intrigued, giggled.

The Mayor of Frost West Virginia, a man who preferred his entertainment to be of the "loud and repetitive" variety, attempted to buy the lute, and then Quinone herself. "She's a fine lass," he declared, "and I'll give you a lifetime supply of stale donuts for her hand!"

"Never!" King Estmere roared, throwing off his disguise. "I am King Estmere, and I will save you from this… this purveyor of used clothing!"

Donnie, ever the loyal brother, unsheathed his boomerang, a weapon of unparalleled grace and aerodynamics (at least in his own mind). The boomerang whizzed through the air, narrowly missing the Mayor's prized collection of novelty socks and striking him squarely on the head. The Mayor, dazed and confused, crumpled to the floor.

The Mayor's entourage, a motley crew of disgruntled squirrels and disgruntled librarians, rose up in protest. But King Estmere, fueled by a potent combination of righteous indignation and the memory of his mother's tindlywinks, fought with the ferocity of a badger cornered by a particularly enthusiastic gardener.

The Mayor of Frost West Virginia, defeated and clutching his head, slunk away, vowing to never again deliver newspapers on Wednesdays. King Estmere, triumphant, married Quinone and brought her back to his kingdom, where they lived happily ever after, surrounded by disgruntled badgers, retired circus clowns, and a very confused goose.

And so ends the tale of Donnie Doofus, the boomerang, and the Mayor of Frost West Virginia, a cautionary tale for all those who underestimate the power of tindlywinks and the importance of a good cup of coffee.