The Tale of Old Sir Placid

A long time ago, there was a large and prosperous kingdom, ruled by a wise king, King Narcolepsy. But his kingdom wasn’t that happy. Far to the south, in the desert countries, there lived a masterful sorcerer, known as the Evil Wizard Paradox. For the past three years, he had slowly been spreading his territory throughout the world. One day, King Narcolepsy summoned Sir Vermiphobia, the handsome new young knight, to his courtroom. “Sir Vermiphobia,” the king said, “we have need of your services. Will you ride out to the sorcerer Paradox’s castle and order his immediate surrender?” “Sure!” Sir Vermiphobia responded enthusiastically. So Sir Vermiphobia rode out on his white steed, and braved the coldest winters, the hottest summers, and the speediest winds. When he arrived at the wizard’s tower, he called up to the Evil Paradox, “My master, King Narcolepsy, demands your immediate surrender f all your territories to their previous owner!” The Evil Paradox cackled menacingly, as storm clouds gathered over his tower, swirling violently. The next day, at King Narcolepsy’s castle, a dragon had landed. In its front paws it clutched Sir Vermiphobia. The dragon let go of him and flapped back off to the south, smoke billowing in plumes from its nostrils. King Narcolepsy turned to Sir Vermiphobia. He was shaking like mad in his sooty armor. King Narcolepsy lifted his visor and peered in Vermiphobia’s helmet. A pound of live worms fell out of his helmet, and Vermiphobia’s face had a horrible half-smile pasted on it, as one eye twitched dangerously. King Narcolepsy sighed, “it looks like we’re going to need a new champion.”