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A
tale of two tarnished knights
Once upon a time the White Knight and the Short Knight threatened to break a legal covenant with the community
By
Merlin
Once upon a time,
there dwelled in the land of Aridzone, two petty knights. One was
known as the White Knight of the
Highlands; the other was called the Short Knight of the Big Valley.
Each, in his own time, sallied forth to do battle in the name of
their deity, whose name was Gelt. Their enemies were mostly peasants
and small landowners who wished to save natural treasures from the
twin legacies of the knights
— Asphalt and Golf.
Stories are told of the epic Battle of Dairyland, in which
the two knights joined forces. They possessed fearsome
weapons. The White Knight owned a torrent of words which he
unleashed at every opportunity, presumably to lure the unwary and
put his opponents to sleep. He hired talented vassals to do his
bidding; these included the Earl of Inaccurate Documents, the Duke
of Threatened Suits and the High Priest of Fixanything. The White
Knight was also a master of delusion, even having the gall to have
his epistles to prospective members of his exclusive enclave signed
"The Rancher."
The Short Knight relied on his famous inconsistency and
temper tantrums which he used with great skill as he fought every
contest as a jousting match. His favorite tactic was 'agree today;
deny tomorrow.' He was known for his motto "Anyone who doesn't
do anything necessary to gain riches is a fool."
Despite all this, the knights lost the first (and second)
skirmish with the pesky and persistent ragtag Army of the Small
People and entered into the Treaty of Landswap, giving an inch
to get a mile, and another mile and yet another until even some of
their friends in the Order of Common Growth grew disgusted with
them. These erstwhile knights broke one (gentleman's ???) agreement
after another. They even thumbed their noses at the Lords of All the
Region who were chagrined to find they lacked the power to deny
plans to use up to a million gallons a day of pristine groundwater
to nourish lawns and golf courses during a severe drought.
Finally, the knights, their armor badly tarnished, went too
far. On the flimsiest of grounds they threatened to break a legal
covenant with the community, shocking even the staunchest defenders
of the Right-To-Do-What-I-Damn-Well-Please. Faced with the wrath of
the commonweal, their once-brilliant banners tattered and torn, the
two disgraced knights continued to bluster and threaten as a final
showdown at the Tribune Superior loomed. The moral to this tale —
remains to be seen.
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