CheapTrick
Legacy Name: CheapTrick

I shake my head irritably. The Sire is late. Again. Well, no matter. Soon, I tell myself. Soon. Soon it will happen, and all will be well.

For now, at least.

The large, golden-trimmed french doors slam open, and a man enters. His tall frame folds itself into the throne, where he slouches momentarily before straightening, remembering his place as Sire, leader of this foul wonderful kingdom. I stand off to one side, glaring at the wall. As per usual, I have been forgotten about. Again.

I clear my throat, and the Sire jumps, before looking over in my direction. "Yes, Trickster? You wanted something?"

I shake my head silently, and the Sire looks confused for a moment before tapping the wall impatiently with his scepter. A flustered squire immediately barrels into the chamber, standing to attention. "Sire!"

"Is there no entertainment around here?" demands the Sire. The squire, poor lad, looks very confused. He gestures madly, but the king does not understand. I cough, and he looks at me. "Trickster!" he snaps. "Are you some good-for-nothing-fool or are you a Royal Fool?" When I don't respond, the Sire glares at me. "Get over here and do your job, Trickster."

And I have no choice but to obey, however begrudgingly I must.

I push myself off the wall and march over to stand in front of the Sire. "Sire," I begin. "It is my pleasure-"

"ENOUGH!" he roars. Disgruntled, I stifle my irritation and bow stiffly. I snap my fingers, and the musicians hurry to their spots and play. I eye the king, and begin. One cartwheel. A roundoff. Backflip. Frontflip. Handsprings. This is my life. This, this is where I am in my element. It is, after all, what I grew up doing. I finish, breathing heavily, but, no. The Sire is not, evidently, in a good mood today. "More," he states. "That was not enough."

After several more attempts, I am fed up. I've waltzed, danced, leaped, and twirled until I can twirl no more. But the Sire wants more. So I will give him his more. I stride to the corner and press one of the tiles. There is a vast rumbling sound, and the Sire's throne flips and plummets down, into the dungeons. No doubt he will find his way up in an hour, but for now I laugh harshly at him. It is what he deserved. And besides, come the hour, he will not find me. For I will have vanished, gone to another kingdom, perhaps with better rulers.

From the hole left behind by the Sire's throne, I hear faint yelling. No doubt it is directed at me. The squire is long gone, perhaps to tell all his friends about what has happened to our Sire. I lean next to the hole and listen.

"That was a cheap trick!" yells the Sire.