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Bachelor King #12: No Rest For The Weary

By Chayanne2 All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Action

Chapter 1

Ohhh! The more I think about it, the angrier I get! I just can't live peacefully without some jerk or group of jerks trying to make my life a misery. I mean, wasn't what the UN had done enough?! Now I had to deal with…we'll get to that later.

The point is that being King has plenty of downsides. Your enemies, in and out of the country are constantly trying to make your life terrible and make you suffer. Ha, and no one knows that better than me.

Heaven knows that I have been through so much, but do you think my enemies leave me alone just for one second? Just one cotton-tail pickin' minute? NO! That would be so stupid! They must be constantly tormenting me. And what really irks me is the way they operate. They leave me in suspense. Why don't they just kill me right off?

Okay, I'm not that desperate.

Forget I said that.

Moving on!

Anyway, it was July 13. It had only been three days since we'd achieved victory and drove the UN out of Amarkia. Those we captured had been executed or had been shipped to the penal islands.

I was in my room, reading a book. Obviously. It was around two in the afternoon, I think. All of the sudden, I felt hungry. Which was strange, considering I'd already eaten. So I put my book away and went down to the kitchen to see if there was anything.

I grabbed some frozen chimichangas from the freezer and put them in the microwave. But when I punched in how long I wanted to heat it and then "Go," a red light flashed and the display said, "Error."

"Larry!" I crossed my arms and waited, taping my feet against the floor.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Why is the microwave not working?"

"Oh, that. I used to it earlier today to try to open a can of tuna."

HUH?! "A can of tuna? How were you planning to open a can of tuna with a microwave?"

"Well, I put in there for forty-five minutes. I figured that if it got hot enough, the top might go off."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Larry, you can't put metal in the microwave. It damages it!"

He put his hands on his hips and glared at me. "Well, I know that now! Okay? Lesson's been learned. I won't forget it." He left.

I sighed again and stared at the microwave. I disconnected it and got on the phone to call the Royal Repairman. "Hello? Mr. Leroy? Yes, this is King Spiny. I'm fine, how are you? My sister? Oh, she's still in intensive care. Greeny? He's getting surgery tomorrow in the morning. Yeah, hoping for the best. Sure, I'll tell them you said hi. Yeah, and also I wanted to ask you a favor. Yeah. Our microwave isn't working. Well, my dingbat roommate put a can of tuna in there, trying to get the lid off. Yeah, yeah. All right. Thank you."

Well, sometimes Larry's antics were easier to take care of. Like a broken microwave. Well, I said to myself. I guess I'll just go down to Arnold's and eat there. I was leaving the kitchen, when Larry popped back. "Hey, I have a quick question."

"What is it?"

"Can you or can't you put metal in the microwave?"

I slapped my face. "Ay yay yay, este Larry. I already told you that a minute ago."

"No, you didn't. You've never told me."

"Ugh! Let's just go down to Arnold's and get a bite to eat. Okay?"

"All right."

We walked out into the late summer afternoon. The sun was scorching and you could hear the heatwaves in the air. Most of the time during the summer, air comes in from the west of Sauropolis, from the bay and that keeps the city mild. But other times, like today, the air comes in from the east, that is, from the desert.

And you can imagine what that means.

We walked to Arnold's. We couldn't take the TIV, because it was being repaired. Actually, its real name is TIV 2. The original is back in Boulder, Colorado. Anyway, TIV 2 is constantly being needed to be fixed. The last time it was a broken axle. Now, it was the brake system. It was the 3rd time the brakes had failed.

And it was pretty inconvenient, since it was during the hottest time of the year. When you don't really want to be walking around. I guess Larry was starting to feel the heat, because he said, "Man, when are you going to get a real car?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking about it."

"Well, thinking is not going to save us from heat stroke."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!"

"Well, yeah! I mean, even if you have to get a Predsel Model A."

"You kidding? That's like from the year 80,385 BCE!" And that is an exact figure, in case you're wondering. That was the year the automobile was invented in Amarkia. "I want to get something a blue-colored convertible from the 38,000s." That's the equivalent of the 1960's for us.

"Oh, come on, Spiny, where do you think we are in, Happy Days."

"Look, I've got my taste and no one can force me to buy the latest thing off the market. Besides, I like cars from that time."

"Don't you mean age?"

"They're not old! They're classic!"

"So what? Same thing!"

"It is not!"

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"I won't argue with you about cars and decades."

"It's too late. You already are."

"I am…oh, no! You were going to trick me, weren't you? I'm sorry, Larry, but I know you a little too well."

"No you don't. What's my last name?"

"You don't have a last name. It's just Larry."

"Okay, you got me there. What's my favorite color?"


"My favorite novel?"

"Oliver Twist."

"Um…my favorite TV Show?"

"Amarkian or non-Amarkian?"


"It's How Stuff Works, from the Discovery Channel. And you're favorite Amarkian show is Amarkia's Got Talent."

"All right, Mr. Know-it-All. How's this? What is my favorite movie?"

"Lion King 1 ½."

He stared at me for a while. "Let's just go to Arnold's. I am not going to argue over hobbies."

Heh heh. When Larry stops asking questions like that and just tells you to go back to whatever you were doing, that usually means he's given up and is tired or arguing.

In short, I won that argument.

And believe me, when you have won an argument with a person like Larry, that's really a huge milestone. Believe me. It really is. Although, now that I think about it, I don't think there are that many people like Larry.

I sure hope there aren't. This world is crazy enough as it is. Can you imagine thousands of Larrys all over the place? Ugh. That's too terrible to imagine. I won't even say it because it might come true.

I already have to deal with one idiot living under my roof. It's like a combination of the worst of Daffy Duck, Sid the Sloth, Scrat the Squirrel, and Lucy Ball. Who, (surprise) happen to be Larry's heroes. He's got their posters on his half of the room.

Well, you know what they say: Like an idiot, like an idiot.

Case in point.

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