las, Sir Jeffulot was released from King Bon Bon John's Dungeon, and that
as himself, seemingly unaffected by any residual Elvis traits, humbled, he
left the castle in his complimentary robe, carrying his belongings in a
nice, neatly folded stack before him...
Upon arriving to his fortress several miles to the east of the castle, he
began to experience an odd sensation... The bloating had begun again, and
his insatiable appetite for pastries was again at hand... He dropped his
belongings, and in a daze, turned around toward the castle once more... His
walk turned into a run, and as the bloating progressed, his run became a
thunderous wobble, and fat shifted violently from left to right creating a
sloshing sound beneath his stretching robe...
Upon his arrival to the castle, he had leaped into a wagon that was
transporting royal pastries, cups and cakes... In a mad fury of gobbling
and burping he continued to slam fist fulls of cakes into his swollen
cheeks... his jaws working at a phenomenal rate while his throat swallowed
as hard and as fast as it possible could... The cakes that he could not fit
into his mouth were shoved into the pockets of his tiny robe, and those that
would not fit there were stacked before him in an insane tower before his
chest... Still gobbling and chewing he darted from inside the wagon toward
the clothing store, dropping pastries here and there along the way...
After a few moments, he emerged from the clothing store in a diamond studded
suit and cape... His hair had turned black again, and the sideburns had
returned to his head... He darted toward the center of the courtyard where
he stood silently for a moment in an odd pose while staring down at the
dirt... Moments had passed in silence, and Sir Jeffulot had gained the
attention of almost all of the townsfolk... All was silent, when suddenly 9
ghostly afroamerican apparitions appeared above and behind him, each dressed
in white robes and surrounded by thin clouds of mist... A choir for the
possessed Sir Jeffulot apparently, they'd begun to sing with the music that
seemed to fall from the heavens... Sir Jeffulot's leg began to move oddly
as his pelvis again thrust rhythmically forward to the beat... Now and then
he'd whale on an imaginary guitar as the music demanded... The crowd and
King was amazed... it truly was elvis' soul....
Sir Jeffulot, while retaining most of the odd movement that had taken over
his body, had managed to point up to the King's (Bon Bon's) window... He
gestured toward his pelvis as he thrust vulgarly in the King's direction to
the beat of the music and choir... Seemingly all at once, the trumpets
silenced, the choir rested and disappeared, and a sword was found in Sir
Jeffulot's hands... The King had darted down to the courtyard in haste
without his armor, without his sword, he was... at Jeffulot's mercy...
Someone had thrown the angered King a sword as he was attempting to defend
himself against the raging Sir Jeffulot... but it was no use.... King Bon
Bon had been beaten by and enraged, severely overweight Sir Jeffulot... Sir
Jeffulot had sat upon Bon Bon John the Awful, and had pressed all of the air
out of him so that he'd sink nicely to the bottom of the moat. And that is
where he was thrown....
A new King... the King... within Sir Jeffulot's badly tired body, now rules
the land... Pastries now on order to fill the needs of the new ruler...
The new wonderful ruler, Sir Jeffulot, the King Baby!
~ Property of the WadAsian High Council
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